The River of Sand

by Kobe Bryant

  Rovi stood and stifled a shudder at the thought of the tunnel roiling with quicksand as it had during the time of the gods. Phoenicians and Star Stealers alike used to whisper that the river wasn’t simply the work of the gods, but the work of Hurell himself. They used to say there was something dark, dangerous, and uncontrollable in the quicksand that was the work of the Fallen God. Rovi had always dismissed these rumors as silly legends. But now, standing in the tunnel, he felt a chill.

  He took a deep breath and hoped his feet would guide him.

  The tunnels were a maze, but unlike the corridors at Ponsit, which closed around Rovi, muffling his grana, at least there was space to breathe and think.

  Five minutes.

  Ten minutes.

  Twenty minutes he walked through the tunnel. It twisted and turned, running back and forth through the city.

  He heard a noise and froze. Was the river coming?

  Rovi turned and rushed back the way he’d come—except he no longer knew which way he’d come. This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. His feet hammered the ground. His footsteps echoed loudly off the tunnel walls.

  What if he couldn’t find his way out? He’d be disqualified from the Junior Epic Games. Stripped of the medal he’d won only hours before.

  There was that noise again. It wasn’t the river. It was voices.

  “Someone’s there,” he heard. “There’s someone in the tunnel.”

  He squinted and saw a flicker of light coming from a gap in the tunnel wall. A little further up, he saw an opening.

  Suddenly a figured jumped out, holding a hand lamp. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s—it’s—” Rovi sputtered.

  “Swiftfoot?”

  Rovi’s heart leaped as he recognized Gita, a leader of a rival gang—a gang whose members, according to Issa, had all been taken to Hafara. She held up the lamp higher.

  “Yes,” Rovi whispered, afraid of the echo of his voice that the tunnel might throw back at him.

  “This way,” Gita said. She beckoned him down the passage and through the door.

  Rovi followed Gita’s brighter lamp, then stepped into an alcove off the main tunnel filled with a mismatched gang of Star Stealers, some of whom he knew and some of whom he identified only by their attire. They were worn and thin. Their faces were lean and shadowy with hunger. In their midst was Issa.

  Rovi rushed to his friend and hugged him so hard he nearly toppled them both to the ground. “You’re all right!” Rovi exclaimed. “When I didn’t see you today, I thought—I thought the guards had gotten you.”

  “I’m sorry I missed your race,” Issa said. “I tried to come, but there were guards everywhere. It wasn’t safe.”

  “I saw,” Rovi said, his heart heavy.

  “I got close. But one spotted me and chased me through the Lower City. I barely made it back into the tunnels.”

  Deeper in the alcove, Rovi could hear a few of the remaining Star Stealers let out nervous sighs.

  “I couldn’t risk it. You’ve seen the signs?”

  “You mean the one at the Junior Epic Village?”

  “Yes,” Issa said. “I tried to find you there first before the race. But there are more. They’re all over Phoenis, warning us away from places like the Alexandrine Market. We’re not allowed to be anywhere.”

  “Why?” Rovi asked.

  “We’re not sure,” Issa said. “They say we are a threat to Phoenis. It started when they began to prepare for the games, and it’s gotten worse in the last two months. Now there are so few of us left. The group needs me.” He gestured to the twelve or so Star Stealers gathered in the room. “I couldn’t take the risk of being caught.”

  “Wait,” Rovi said, “these are all the Star Stealers who are left?” When he’d left for Ecrof, Issa’s gang alone had twelve members, and that had been one of ten Star Stealer gangs in Phoenis.

  Issa glanced around the alcove. “They’ve rounded up everyone else.”

  Rovi looked at the faces staring at him. Would he have been one of these lucky ones, or would he have been caught and taken to Hafara Prison? “How long have you been down here?”

  “We started using the tunnels to get around not long after you left. We were permanently chased from the riverbank about a month ago. So this hideout is our home now.”

  Rovi shivered. He didn’t think he could sleep in the dried-out bed of the River of Sand. “Aren’t you worried about the river? It’s down here somewhere, right?”

  “It’s deeper in the tunnels,” Issa said. “I’ve never seen it. And hopefully I’ll never have to.”

  “But what if it breaks free?” Rovi said.

  “It hasn’t for two thousand years.” Rovi glanced over his shoulder as if the river might be in the main tunnel. “And if it does,” Issa continued, “there are the warning sirens. Hopefully that will give us enough time to reach the river Durna.”

  “Hopefully?”

  “What else can we do?” Issa said.

  Rovi sighed. But before he could say any more, a shadow was cast from the tunnel into the hideout. Rovi felt someone standing behind him and stepped aside.

  The new arrival wasn’t a kid like the Star Stealers, but an adult. Rovi tensed. Star Stealers usually stayed clear of adults, who often turned them in to the guards.

  “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” The man held out a hand to Rovi. He spoke in Epocan with a heavy Sandlander accent.

  Rovi hesitated. Then he saw the rings. He held out the hand lamp.

  “Thank you,” the man said. “I see it got you where you needed to go.”

  “Who are you?” Rovi asked.

  “My name is Fortunus,” the man said.

  “Fortunus has been helping us for the last month,” Issa explained. “He came to Phoenis to unite the Star Stealers. Fortunus, this is Rovi.”

  “Rovi Myrios,” Rovi said. He was instantly ashamed of using his last name. Star Stealers, who were orphans and outcasts, didn’t have family names, and if they did, they shed them. To his own ears he sounded as if he was bragging.

  Fortunus didn’t seem to mind. He smiled and looked Rovi over. He was small but powerful. He looked like a Phoenician or a Sandlander of some sort, with naturally tan skin. But he had a strange pallor about him, as if he hadn’t seen the sun much recently.

  Up close, Rovi could see that the strange clothes he’d noticed aboveground were indeed foreign to the Sandlands—leather pants and a woven T-shirt that looked to be made of wool or some other heavy fabric. Fortunus’s black hair was shaggy and short. And he had a smile that lit up the room like a glowing crescent moon.

  “Rovi Swiftfoot,” he said. “The hero of the day.”

  Rovi couldn’t help but smile.

  “Wait,” Issa said. “You won?”

  “Of course he did,” Fortunus said, taking a seat on a rough-hewn bench. “I’ve been trying to get back here to give you the news. But I had some scouting to do.” His voice became serious. “It’s worse up there than ever, Issa. There is double the normal amount of guards. Soon we won’t even be able to scrounge food. We will need to make our move.”

  “Okay,” Issa said with a meaningful look at Rovi, “I understand.”

  “But,” Fortunus said, patting the spot next to him so Rovi could sit, “let’s put that aside for a moment. We have a legend among us. They’ll be singing songs about him someday.”

  Rovi tried not to blush as he joined Fortunus on the bench. “If they’re going to sing songs about anyone, it’s going to be my friend Vera Renovo. She’s making history at the games. She intends to break the record held by Farnaka Stellus for most Junior Epic Medals.”

  “Does she now?” Fortunus said, sounding impressed. “That’s very ambitious. But I predict Epic greatness for you, too, son,” he added. “I’m proud to kno
w you.”

  “Really?” Rovi beamed. “Me?”

  “You ran one of the fastest Epic Miles in the history of the Junior Epics. Your reputation precedes you, even underground,” Fortunus said. “Tell me more about yourself. Although I already know quite a lot. I’ve been following your exploits.”

  “My what?” Rovi asked.

  “Your adventures—from the streets of Phoenis to the holy hills of Ecrof. News travels in all circles. If the rumors are true, you are a champion in the making,” Fortunus said with a serious smile. “And you are destined to do great things.”

  “Hopefully,” Rovi said.

  “Only if you want to,” Fortunus said.

  “I do,” Rovi assured him.

  The man clapped him on the back. “That’s the spirit. I see why you were on the Scrolls of Ecrof. I’m sure your family would have been proud.”

  Rovi bit his lip. The thought of his family made him sad, but he didn’t want the Star Stealers to see. They were tougher than that.

  “I also know how proud this family is of you,” Fortunus said. “It’s not often a Star Stealer rises to Junior Epic Glory or becomes the pride of House Somni.”

  An enormous smile broke across Rovi’s face.

  “You are many things to many people,” Fortunus said. “That’s a blessing.”

  “Tell us about the race,” Issa broke in.

  “Yes, tell us,” Fortunus said. “I wish I could have seen it.”

  Rovi described the course and how he’d barely realized he’d won until his friends told him. Now that he knew Issa wasn’t in Hafara, he finally allowed himself to enjoy his victory.

  But as he neared the end, he broke off. “I’m sorry,” he said to Issa. “I didn’t do what you asked. I didn’t mention the Star Stealers on the medal podium.” He felt his cheeks burn with shame.

  “Forget about it, little brother,” Issa said.

  “Yes, forget about it,” Fortunus echoed cheerfully. “You’ve just had your first Junior Epic win—you can’t be expected to shoulder the burden of others. This is your time to shine.” He winked at Rovi.

  “You’re not mad,” Rovi said, looking at Issa.

  “No,” Issa said. “You should enjoy your victory.”

  Fortunus reached into a leather bag and offered Rovi a hunk of honeyed bread. “If I were your father, I would take you out for a proper celebration of your victory. But this is all I have to offer.”

  Rovi hesitated. He didn’t want to accept food in front of the hungry Star Stealers, but it felt rude to refuse. “Go on,” Fortunus urged. “A small celebration on your behalf.”

  Rovi took the bread.

  “And one more thing.” Fortunus reached back into his bag. “A true Phoenician fig.”

  He handed it to Rovi. “Now, I should leave you and your friends to catch up.” He stood.

  “No!” Rovi blurted, suddenly realizing how badly he wanted the older man to stay. For in all his victory celebration that afternoon and evening, something had been missing. He’d had no mother or father to share his joy with, no parents to celebrate his win and to let him know how proud he’d made them. When it was all said and done, Rovi was alone. In fact, if not for Pretia and her family, who didn’t feel like family to him at all, he’d have had nowhere to go between terms at Ecrof. “I just—” Rovi continued.

  Fortunus and Issa exchanged a glance. “Stay,” Issa said.

  “If that’s all right with our honored guest,” Fortunus said.

  “Of course,” Rovi exclaimed through a mouthful of bread and fig.

  “You know,” Issa said, “Fortunus wasn’t just a Star Stealer. He was a gang leader, like me. His group lived behind the Moon Palace out in the desert.”

  “Really?” Rovi asked. He always wondered what happened to Star Stealers when they grew up. He knew they left their gangs, but that was it.

  Issa’s eyes grew wide. “But now he lives in the outlands, which is where a lot of us wind up. And he’s been traveling from the Snowy Mountains to the Ice Continent and down through Epoca’s major cities to gather together Orphic People such as ourselves.”

  “Why?” Rovi asked.

  “So that anyone who lives beyond the designations of Dreamer and Realist might have a safe haven—a country of their own,” Fortunus said. “We need to band together before we are forced to disappear or turn ourselves over for a life of servitude in one of the mines simply because we are neither Dreamers nor Realists. It is no longer safe for any Orphic Person to live in mainland Epoca, Star Stealers in particular. The Phoenicians have grown intolerant of our gangs over the years. But imagine a country composed of all of us: Moon Jumpers, Sun Catchers, Star Stealers, and the rest. A place where we can live and thrive without fear of the Dreamer and Realist authority.”

  “So you’re the one gathering the Star Stealers together,” Rovi said.

  “I am. But it proved harder than I thought. Every time I gathered the leaders, the authorities thought we were planning something dangerous. And they started to crack down. But now it’s time to act. We must leave.”

  “Issa, you want to leave Phoenis?” Rovi asked. He was no longer a Star Stealer. He no longer slept on the streets of Phoenis. He no longer stole food from the market or the Upper City. But he also couldn’t imagine Phoenis without Star Stealers in it.

  “We have no choice,” Issa said. “Look around. This is who is left. They will get us soon if we don’t leave. It’s our last chance.”

  The other Star Stealers clustered in the alcove nodded at Issa’s words.

  “So—when? When are you going?” Rovi felt himself begin to tear up. What if he never saw his friend and brother again?

  “Ah,” Fortunus said sadly, “that is the difficult part. I wanted to leave soon, but we can’t.”

  “We can’t leave the others behind,” Issa explained. “There are close to a hundred of us in Hafara Prison.”

  Rovi shivered at the thought of all those Star Stealers abandoned underground.

  “You see, Rovi, that’s the problem,” Fortunus said. He offered Rovi more bread. But Rovi found he no longer had the stomach for food.

  Issa sighed. “I’m not leaving without my gang, and the other leaders feel the same.”

  Rovi could feel a pit opening in his stomach. “What will you do?”

  “There’s only one thing to do, Swiftfoot,” Fortunus said, placing an arm on Rovi’s shoulders. Rovi stared at him expectantly. “We need to free your friends.”

  “From Hafara?” Rovi’s mouth hung open.

  “Yes,” Issa said. “Fortunus has a plan.”

  Rovi studied Fortunus as he took a deep breath and smoothed his leather pants.

  “Even after I was a Star Stealer, I spent years underground in Phoenis. I learned many of the city’s secrets. A great city always has plenty of secrets.” He winked. “And one of the things I learned was that there is a key that opens all the locks in the city. It was buried two thousand years ago.” His voice was grave and excited at the same time.

  “We need that key,” Issa said, “to get into Hafara Prison.”

  “Where is it?” Rovi demanded.

  “It’s buried in the Temple of Arsama,” Fortunus explained. “It’s called the Key to Phoenis. But only the best thief will be able to steal it.”

  And before he knew what he was saying, the words were out of Rovi’s mouth. “I’m the best thief.”

  Fortunus’s eyes twinkled. “I like that competitive fire. House Somni is lucky to have you.”

  Rovi didn’t have time for the compliment. “If you need that key, I’ll get it for you.”

  “Rovi!” Issa exclaimed.

  “I’m not just Rovi. I’m Swiftfoot,” Rovi said. “And what’s more, I’ve been training my grana for a year. It’s made me even faster than I was when I lived here. I know w
hat I can do. And I can do this.”

  “I didn’t dare hope you would help us,” Issa said softly. “I would try it myself, but Star Stealers can barely travel aboveground. We are confined to the River of Sand tunnels now. So there is no way for me to access the temple. And even if I could, I am getting older. I’m not as nimble as I once was.”

  “I said I’ll do it,” Rovi declared. He’d just medaled in one of the premier events in the Junior Epic Games. And he hadn’t even had to work that hard to do it. He’d also slipped out of the Junior Epic Village undetected. Plus, he’d found Issa in the tunnels of the River of Sand. If he could do all that, he could steal a key from a temple. By the gods, he could steal anything.

  Before he could say anything more, Issa pulled him into a powerful embrace. “I love you, little brother,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Rovi returned the hug.

  Then he felt Fortunus encircle them both with his arms. It reminded Rovi so much of being hugged by his father that he had to swallow hard.

  “I’ll steal the key,” he assured them. “We have to free our friends.”

  17

  PRETIA

  A CONFRONTATION

  Pretia counted silently in her head, then again out loud: “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.” Twelve seconds—the length of her fastest 100-meter sprint. That’s all she needed to do. Twelve seconds over several heats. Then she could make the podium.

  She turned the counting into a beat, a rhythm that kept her going all morning. She heard it in her footfalls as she descended the stairs of the residential tower. She heard it in the sound of Spirit Water flowing into her cup in the cafeteria, the footsteps of the athletes overhead on the elevated walkways, the rhythm of the purple water falling back into the fountains, and the noise of the wheels of the vehicles rolling down the Grand Concourse. Twelve seconds to Junior Epic Glory.

  In the late morning, Pretia and Vera boarded the Epic Coach to the Crescent Stadium. The first heats would take place before midday and the final race when the golden sun had reached its full height.