by Kobe Bryant
* * *
Rovi wasn’t at breakfast, which relieved Pretia, since she didn’t want to confront him, but it also filled her with anxiety, in case he was off doing something risky. She ate quickly and rushed off to the health center, hoping to get there before it got jammed with athletes wanting to soak their ankles in the ice baths, submerge in the healing pools, roll out their muscles on the bubble racks, and slide into the soothing suits.
The health center was empty except for one athlete who’d fearlessly plunged both her ankles into an ice bucket: Eshe. She looked delighted to see Pretia.
“Sore or injured?” she asked as Pretia entered the room.
“Sore. It’s not bad. I’m going to roll on the bubble racks for a bit,” Pretia replied, heading toward the rolling ladders with rotating, soft bubbly balls on them that contoured to an athlete’s body and worked out muscle stiffness. “Ready for your event today?”
“Totally,” Eshe gushed.
“I better see you and Vera on the podium,” Pretia said.
“You will.”
Pretia envied the recruit’s confidence.
Eshe looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Are they here? Am I going to get to race in front of them?”
“In front of whom?” Pretia asked.
Eshe gave her a strange look. “Your parents. The king and queen.”
“My parents? In Phoenis?” Pretia couldn’t hide the panic in her voice.
“A delegate was just here. She told me that those of us competing today have to acknowledge the royal box before our event and from the podium if we medal.”
“I haven’t been told anything,” Pretia said, trying to hide her mounting anxiety.
“No one back home will believe it. Imagine winning gold in front of the king and queen! I’d even settle for silver.”
Why wouldn’t Eshe be quiet? Pretia needed to think. Should I hide? Should I find Janos?
“Can I meet them? Will you introduce me? Pretia!”
An ice cube hit Pretia in the arm. “What?” Startled, she glared at Eshe.
“You weren’t listening,” Eshe said. “I asked you if I can meet your parents.”
Before Pretia could respond, four burly adults stepped into the health center.
They weren’t dressed like delegates or officials from the games.
“Princess Pretia Praxis-Onera, there you are.” A strong woman with arms like a shot-putter’s strode toward her. One glance told Pretia she was a royal guard.
“Yes,” Pretia said.
“You need to come with us.”
“I’m busy,” Pretia said. “I’m rehabbing my calves.” She was tired of adults bossing her around and making her do things besides focus on the games.
In four strides, the woman had crossed the room and taken Pretia’s arm. “It’s for your own safety,” she said.
In silence, Pretia followed the guards out of the village. They formed a barrier around her as they went—one in front, one in back, and one on either side.
A royal van was waiting on the concourse. Pretia got in without being told.
The van drove through the Upper City in the direction of the Tile Palace. Instead of stopping in front, it pulled around back. The door opened and two guards hustled Pretia inside so quickly she didn’t have time to admire the magnificent building close-up.
Once inside, she was marched down a series of corridors, deeper and deeper into the palace. Her anxiety grew with each step. What would she say to her parents? How could she apologize for disobeying them? They would be furious.
Finally, the guards stopped in front of a single, heavy bronze door. One of them knocked. Pretia heard a bolt slide back. Then the door swung open. She felt a hand on her back urging her inside. She stepped into the room.
Her parents were dressed not in official garb, but in the casual clothes they reserved for long voyages.
The king stepped toward his daughter and embraced her. “You’re safe!”
“Of course I’m safe,” Pretia said warily. “Why?”
Her mother rose. “Pretia, you disobeyed us.”
The king let Pretia go, and the joy in his face at seeing Pretia was replaced by anger. “We were very disappointed,” the king said sternly. “We are still disappointed.”
Pretia hung her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s a little late for sorry,” her father said. “You knew that when you got to Ecrof’s protected island, you would be beyond our reach.”
“And you also knew,” the queen added, “that when you were selected for the team, it would be your duty to compete. You planned this so well, Pretia.”
“Along with your brother,” the king said with a meaningful look at his wife.
“Your uncle has always put sports above all else,” the queen said, her voice disapproving, “even if it contradicts our wishes. Did he plant this idea in your head?”
“He doesn’t always consider what’s best for the kingdom,” King Airos added. “Don’t think this act of defiance on his part will go unpunished. He takes too many liberties with his position.”
“Don’t blame Uncle Janos,” Pretia pleaded. “It was my decision. I just couldn’t imagine life without sports.”
“Well,” the king said, “that is exactly what you will have to do. From now on, there will be no more sports for you.”
Pretia inhaled sharply.
“You are the Child of Hope before anything else,” the queen said. “Your duty is to your kingdom, not to a team.”
“My duty is to House Somni, at least for a few more days.”
“Not anymore,” the queen said.
Pretia looked at her father. “Don’t you want the Dreamers to win? If I run in the 4x400, I can almost ensure them a medal. And Somni is going to need that medal.”
The king sighed. “Then they will have to win it without you.”
“Is this all because I ran away?”
“No,” the queen said. “It has to do with safety.”
“But the games are safe,” Pretia pleaded. “There are guards everywhere.”
The king held up his hand for Pretia to stop talking. “And there will be more guards from now on. Something very alarming has happened here in Phoenis.”
Pretia looked around the room, taking in her surroundings for the first time. The room was small, more like a bunker than royal quarters. In the center was a sturdy table and six chairs, everything inlaid with tile. Even the floors and walls were covered in mosaic. The only surface that was unadorned was the heavy bronze door. She’d seen doors like that before—they were designed to block out noise from outside and keep whatever was said in the room secret.
The king spread his large hands out on the table. “Pretia, we think it’s time you begin to understand and be consulted on some matters of state.”
“Someone has broken into the Temple of Arsama,” the queen said, taking a seat at the table. “We have reason to believe it is the work of the Star Stealers.”
“We think,” the king continued, “they are planning to hold the games hostage.”
“How?” Pretia blurted.
The queen folded her hands and stared at her rings. “We aren’t sure. All we know is that they stole something very important to Phoenis. An ancient key. The most important key in Epoca.”
“Why would the Star Stealers want an old key?” Pretia asked.
“This key opens every door in Phoenis. If they have it, they can do anything with it. They could take control of the city,” the king explained.
“They are outsiders,” the queen added, “and they threaten our natural order, since they are neither Dreamers nor Realists.”
Pretia folded her arms over her chest. “Well, neither am I!”
Pretia had to work hard to control her tone. “The point of me?”
“Your birth united this county with a new future,” the queen continued.
“What if that’s not what I want for my life?” Pretia asked.
The king lowered his voice. “You have no choice. It’s who you are. It is why you were born.” He cleared his throat. “Now that the Star Stealers have this key, there’s no telling what they will do with it. We need to get you out of here as soon as possible.”
“You mean I have to leave the games before they’re over?” Pretia exclaimed.
“Yes,” the queen said. “Immediately. Tonight.”
“But it’s my Epic Duty to compete.”
King Airos sighed. “And you have done your Epic Duty already. You competed, and won. Janos will select a suitable alternate. And this time he will do as I command.” Pretia was taken aback by the fierce tone in her father’s voice. “There is no shame and no prohibition against you leaving now. Athletes leave the games for many reasons—illness, injury.”
“But I’m not ill or injured,” Pretia objected.
“No,” the queen said. “You’re something worse. You are unsafe.”
“How?” Pretia demanded. “Why?”
“If the Star Stealers managed to get that key from deep in the Temple of Arsama, there is no telling what they are capable of,” Pretia’s father explained. “And no telling what they will do.”
“The Phoenician guards have told us that only the best thief could have pulled that off and not gotten caught. Someone swift and nimble,” the queen said. “We need to be very cautious.”
Pretia’s mind caught on the word swift. Her gut churned. Hadn’t Rovi’s nickname as a Star Stealer been Swiftfoot? And hadn’t he bragged on the day he arrived in Phoenis that he’d never been caught stealing by the guards?
The king looked at Pretia meaningfully, unaware of her roiling thoughts. “Don’t you see how dangerous the situation is? The Star Stealers could use that key to open the gates to the Junior Epic Village. Phoenis will not be safe until the key and the Star Stealer who stole it are found.”
Pretia’s mind was racing. If Rovi had indeed stolen the key, surely the Star Stealers weren’t planning to do anything bad with it. Rovi wouldn’t have anything to do with something that endangered her. But this was an argument she couldn’t make to her parents. She had to tread carefully.
“The guards have been doing their best to round up the Star Stealers for the last year,” the queen continued. “They have been making the streets safer for the games. But as we feared back at Ponsit, their efforts have not been enough.”
“What do they do with the kids they’ve rounded up?” Pretia asked.
The king and queen exchanged glances. “We leave that up to the Phoenician authority. It has always been the right of any province in Epoca to mete out their own punishments,” Queen Helena said.
“I assume they are being sent to make sand bricks as usual,” Pretia’s father added. “It’s not such a bad punishment.”
“But they’re kids,” Pretia objected.
“That doesn’t mean the law doesn’t apply to them,” Queen Helena said sternly. “Whatever the law may be. And as for you, you are not above our authority, no matter what my brother says. You will return to Castle Airim with us,” the queen said. “Last year, I thought Ecrof might be good for you. But I see that even a short time spent learning sports has distracted you from the essential work that lies ahead. It has made you reckless and careless.”
“What essential work?” Pretia asked.
“Whether you like it or not, you are the Child of Hope,” the king answered. “And we brought you into this world so you could unite Dreamers and Realists.” His face softened. “What’s more, we love you beyond all imagining, Pretia. You are our hope. Not just the hope of Epoca. If something happened to you, we would never forgive ourselves.”
“We hope one day for a world without so many boundaries between houses,” the queen said.
Pretia stared at her parents. “And that’s my job?”
“Yes,” her father said. “A world of Dreamers and Realists without friction. A world where the houses might blend.”
“What if I want—” Pretia began. Suddenly she didn’t feel like speaking anymore. There was nothing more to say, no more objections to make.
“We’ve already seen what happens when you do what you want,” her mother said. “You will come with us when you’ve packed. Janos will be disappointed, I know. But then again, I’m very disappointed in him.”
Janos wouldn’t be the only one. Pretia could only imagine Vera’s reaction. Vera wanted to make history. And Pretia could assure her that she would. She knew she might also be the one person who would guarantee a win for House Somni if it came down to that. But her parents had made up their minds.
“The palace guards will take you back to the village,” the king said. “When you’ve finished packing, we will depart.”
Pretia drew in a long, slow breath. She stood up and looked directly at each of her parents, meeting their eyes in turn.
Then, without a word, Princess Pretia Praxis-Onera left the chamber.
* * *
In a daze, Pretia walked through the Dreamer Village for the last time. She ignored the leaderboard and the athletes getting ready for the final days of competition. She blocked her ears to the music pouring from the speakers and the glorious purple water in the fountains. Without a word to her teammates, she headed straight for her room. Thankfully, Vera was out. Pretia couldn’t imagine how she’d explain to her friend what was happening.
She pulled her duffel out of her closet and began stuffing her gear inside. A few weeks ago, these clothes had been her most prized possessions. But now they were just a reminder of everything she’d never do again. She put her gold medal in last. At least no one could take that victory away from her.
She looked for a pen and paper to leave Vera a note, but when she found them, getting the words out was too difficult. Word would travel around the village soon enough that Pretia had been taken away.
She gathered up her Grana Book and opened it to the image that had told her to go to Phoenis. She must have read it wrong. There was no reason for her to have come here. She snapped the book shut and stuffed it in her bag.
Pretia took a final look around the room, then opened the door. Instantly, she was bowled over by Vera. “My laces!” Vera shouted.
Pretia rolled over on the floor.
“I need backup laces. Mine snapped,” Vera panted. Then she took in Pretia’s backpack and duffel. “Wait, where are you going?”
“Nowhere,” Pretia said.
“Are you leaving?” Vera gasped.
Pretia stared at her friend.
“Hold on,” Vera said, her eyes blazing. “I heard your parents are here. Eshe was babbling about it. Are they . . . did they . . . ?”
Pretia could almost hear Vera’s mind putting it all together.
“They’re taking you home?”
“Um—”
“They’re taking you home!”
Pretia sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“No it isn’t,” Vera said. “Not at all. You’re not going.”
Pretia stood and shouldered her backpack. “I have to.”
“What you have to do is secure victory for House Somni,” Vera said. “That’s why you came. There are only two days left.”
“My parents are worried because someone broke into the Temple of Arsama and stole an ancient key.” Pretia didn’t want to go into details about the Star Stealers. “They think I’m in danger.”
“Who cares about some old key?” Vera said. “Can’t they just keep you somewhere safe until th
e 4x400 at least?”
“They won’t.”
Vera bit her lip. “Well,” she said, “if they won’t, maybe we can.”
“What do you mean?” Pretia asked.
“Do you want to race?” Vera asked her. “Do you want another Junior Epic Gold? Do you want victory for House Somni?”
Pretia was silent for a moment. One more race. What harm could it do? It’d be her last for sure. But she’d love one more medal. And beyond that, she’d love to help Vera write her way into history. “Yes,” she said slowly. “More than anything,” she added in a whisper.
Vera’s face brightened. “Then we’ll just have to hide you until the relay.”
“Where?” Pretia asked. A guard was waiting at the entrance to the residential tower to take her back to the car that was idling on the Grand Concourse. Her heart beat quickly. If there was any chance that she could compete in one last race for the glory of House Somni, she would take it.
“I don’t know,” Vera said.
Pretia’s heart sank. But before Pretia could say any more, a broad smile erupted on Vera’s face. “But I know someone who does. Rovi! No one knows how to hide better in Phoenis than Rovi. It’s how he grew up.”
“My parents have guards,” Pretia said. “They’re watching me.”
Vera was already rummaging in her closet. She pulled out her giant swim coat and handed it to Pretia. “Put this on, hood up. It will conceal you.”
“Then what?” Pretia asked.
“Pack your backpack with whatever you need for a few days. Then we’ll go to the boys’ tower and you’ll wait for Rovi. It’s totally forbidden for girls to go in there. So no one will check.”
“So how are we going to get in?”
“Just walk in. Hood up, head down, like you belong.”
“And then?” Pretia asked.
Vera shrugged. “Who knows. But he’ll figure something out. Two days from now, you and I are going to take gold.”
“Okay,” Pretia said. She could feel her cheeks glowing. Her parents would be so mad. Again.
Pretia stuffed a few things into her backpack. Then she put on Vera’s coat and lifted the hood. It was warm but hid her face from view. Vera was already racing down the stairs. “Rovi will know exactly what to do,” she called over her shoulder.