by Kobe Bryant
“That’s a long jump,” Rovi said, peering over the edge.
“Yeah,” Vera said. “That’s going to hurt.”
“Take off your scarf,” Pretia said, holding out a hand to Vera. “Hold on to it and lower me and Rovi down.”
“What about me?” Vera asked.
“You stay up here. Look for somewhere to secure the scarf. We’re going to need someone to pull us up somehow.”
“Got it,” Vera said. She looped the scarf around her wrists and braced herself. The cloth dangled down toward the prison floor. It took about five feet off the jump. It wasn’t much, but it would help.
“I’ll go first,” Pretia said.
Before Rovi could object, Pretia had sat down on the edge of the walkway. Rovi went to help Vera brace herself against Pretia’s weight. Pretia shinnied down the scarf and then let go, landing with a grunt on her feet.
Then Rovi took the scarf from Vera. “Are you sure you can hold it?”
“I can do it,” she answered.
In an instant, Rovi was standing next to Pretia in the pit.
Pretia turned and faced the open prison—no walls, no cells, no beds, just pallets on the floor. The space was illuminated by a handful of flickering yellow Helian lamps. It smelled of rot and mildew. Stains and smears from long-ago blood sports marked the stone floors. She looked up into the looming, unreachable stands.
“Where is everyone?”
Rovi cupped his hands over his mouth. “Issa?”
The name echoed horribly off the walls.
“Hello?”
There was a shuffling from the back of the prison. A voice called out in the dark. “Swiftfoot?”
Suddenly it looked as if the walls of the prison were coming to life. Kids began to emerge from the shadows. Some of them were so gaunt and skinny they looked like no more than shadows themselves.
“Issa!” Rovi cried.
“Did they get you, too?” the voice asked.
“No,” Rovi said. “I’m here to free you. Come out. It’s safe.”
Pretia watched as Issa stepped into the weak light and embraced Rovi.
“I can’t believe you came,” Issa said.
“I almost didn’t make it,” Rovi said. “Without Pretia and Vera, I wouldn’t have.”
“Pretia?” An older girl had joined their group. She was tall, with long black hair that hung in two dirty-looking braids. “Gita!” Rovi exclaimed. Gita gave Rovi a cautious look, then turned to Vera and Pretia with a mistrustful stare.
Pretia could feel Gita’s eyes boring into her. “That’s the Princess of Epoca’s name,” Gita said.
“I am the Princess of Epoca,” Pretia said.
“The royal family doesn’t care about Star Stealers,” Gita said, her voice heavy with disdain. “Why are you here?”
“I came to help Rovi,” Pretia insisted. “To help you.”
“Is this a trick?” Gita asked Rovi.
“Gita,” Issa said, “Pretia is Rovi’s friend. We can trust her.”
Gita folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe you can, but I can’t. I won’t.”
“We don’t have any choice,” Issa declared. “If she and Rovi have a way to get out of here, we need to follow them. We need to get out of the city as soon as possible. Phoenis is no longer our home.”
“So, Princess,” Gita said in a snide tone, “how do we get out of here?”
Pretia glanced at Rovi. What was their plan?
“You have no idea, do you,” Gita said scornfully.
“Hey!”
Pretia and Rovi turned at the sound of Vera’s voice calling across the pit. “What’s going on down there?”
“Who is that?” Gita asked.
“That’s how we get out,” Pretia said confidently. “We’ll make a rope out of clothes and whatever else we have, and Vera can secure it up there. Then Rovi or I will climb up and pull the rest of you out one by one. How many of you are here, Issa?”
“About a hundred,” he said.
“That’s doable,” Pretia replied.
Issa put his fingers to his lips and blasted a loud whistle, summoning the rest of the Star Stealers from the shadows.
“But how are we going to get back across the River of Sand?” Gita asked. “In fact, how did you cross it in the first place?”
“We swam,” Pretia said.
“I’m not sending my gang into the quicksand,” Gita said forcefully. “That’s certain death.”
Pretia glanced behind Gita and Issa at the Star Stealers slowly coming out into the open. They looked weak and thin. There was no way they could swim.
“Of course not, Gita,” Rovi said. “Don’t worry.”
He pulled Pretia’s arm, hurrying her back toward where Vera stood above them. “Ignore her,” he whispered.
“But what are we going to do?” Pretia said. Her brain and body had worked tirelessly to get to this point, and she was all out of inspiration.
“We always think of something,” Rovi assured her.
“Did you see those kids?” Pretia whispered. “They can hardly walk.”
“They’ll be able to walk if their freedom is on the line,” Rovi said. “Star Stealers are stronger than you think.”
“Let’s hope so,” Pretia said. She called up to Vera, overhead, “We have to make a rope of clothes.” She took off her jacket. “We can start with this.”
“Gotcha,” Vera said. “I have this scarf, and I can sacrifice my track pants. I have running shorts on.”
“We can use my entire tracksuit,” Rovi added. “Now we only need a few more things to make it long enough.” He turned back to the Star Stealers. “Issa!” he shouted. “Did you find any spare clothes?”
Issa ran out of the shadows with a handful of scarves and tunics. Rovi shot him a grateful smile and sat down on the ground to begin tying their clothes together. Soon he had a rope that would reach Vera.
“Now throw it to me,” Vera called.
Rovi tried to toss the rope to Vera, but it fell way short. He tried again, then handed the rope to Pretia.
“Nope,” she said, shaking her head and giving it back. “You do it.”
“I can’t throw that well,” Rovi said. “You just saw me fail.”
“Remember what you did back at the decathlon trials?” Pretia asked.
“You mean what you told me to do,” Rovi reminded her.
“But you did it. Now you’re actually in Phoenis with your Star Stealer gang.” Pretia paused. “Throw like your happiness depends on it. Which it does.”
She stepped back, making room for Rovi. She glanced up at Vera, who was on her hands and knees leaning over the edge, ready to catch the rope.
Rovi’s next throw fell short. So did the following one. He kicked the ground in frustration.
“You got this,” Pretia said.
“I can’t do it,” Rovi insisted.
Pretia thought for a moment. “Maybe this time you should pretend that you’re back in Ecrof at the trials.”
Rovi shook off her suggestion. “That game isn’t working anymore.”
“What if this throw is the difference between you making the Junior Epic Team or Castor taking your spot?”
A small smile broke across Rovi’s lips. “That might work,” he said. He rearranged the rope of clothes in his hand. He pulled his arm back over his shoulder and threw. The rope sailed up and up, right into Vera’s waiting arms.
“Woo-hoo!” Rovi cried.
Pretia high-fived him.
“Great throw,” Vera called. “I’ve secured the scarf to a nasty-looking iron hook up here. I don’t even want to think what it was used for. Now I’ll tie this to the scarf and we’re good.”
“I’ll go first to test it,” Pretia said, “just in case it doesn’t ho
ld.”
Vera lowered the rope. Pretia tugged on it. It felt strong and secure. Bracing her feet on the wall of the pit, she began to climb. It was hard but manageable if you were healthy and strong—which most of the Star Stealers weren’t.
She pulled herself onto the walkway next to Vera. “Some of those kids down there are really weak,” she explained. “We’ll have to haul them.”
“Well,” Vera said, “let’s get going. Rovi, start sending them up.”
It was slow work. Some of the Star Stealers, like Issa, who were older and stronger or who had spent less time in Hafara, could climb themselves. But many others had to be pulled up by Vera and Pretia.
When half of the Star Stealers were out, Pretia fell back on the ground. “I need a break,” she said.
“Let me,” Issa said, taking the rope.
“And me,” Gita said, joining him. “We wouldn’t want a princess doing all the work.”
“Lay off her, Gita,” Issa hissed.
“Only when her family lays off us,” Gita snapped.
Pretia was glad it was dark enough in Hafara that no one could see the angry flush on her cheeks.
Gita and Issa pulled out the remaining Star Stealers. Rovi climbed up last.
“Okay,” Pretia said, “let’s go. I can’t think in this place.”
Issa put his fingers to his lips and whistled. “Everyone out!”
As a single mass, the Star Stealers made their way out of the horrible stadium and stood in front of the roiling River of Sand.
“Now what?” Gita asked. “Any more ideas, or was that it?”
“I’m thinking,” Pretia barked. She looked up at the bridge they’d seen on their way into the prison. It was at least forty feet overhead, but she, Rovi, and Vera had faced down worse challenges. “We need to figure out a way to get the bridge down.”
“No!” Issa cried. “There’s an alarm. If you lower the bridge from this side, it will let the guards know that the prison has been breached. If that happens, they could release the River of Sand from the moat as punishment.”
“And flood the tunnels?” Pretia asked.
“Exactly,” Issa said.
Vera wrapped a hand around Pretia’s wrist and pulled her to the side. “Whatever we do, we’ve got to act fast. Once those guards stop looking for me, they’ll come check here. One way or another, they’re going to figure out we broke into the prison.”
Pretia felt her own eyes widen. “And one way or another they’ll have reason to release that river.”
Pretia’s mind was racing. There had to be a way across. She looked at the waves of quicksand. Something was nagging at her. She might not be able to cross the river, but part of her could do things that the physical Pretia couldn’t, a part of her that was stronger. Now, more than ever, she needed her shadow self.
But how? She couldn’t just summon it. It only came when her body was straining and needed it to help her. She tiptoed over to the edge of the river where the quicksand waves were crashing.
“Get back,” Rovi called.
Pretia didn’t listen. She held up a hand to shield herself from the waves of sand. Then she put a foot in deep enough that she felt the river grab her.
“You’ll get stuck!” Vera screamed.
But that was exactly what she wanted.
“Stop!” Rovi rushed to pull her back.
“I know what I’m doing,” Pretia said.
“What are you doing?” Vera demanded.
Pretia felt the quicksand grip her as it tried to pull her in. “I’m going to walk across.”
“You’ll get trapped. You’re already trapped.” Vera was nearly hyperventilating.
“I can do this, Vera,” Pretia said. “My shadow self can. It’s always been able to do things my physical body can’t. It’s stronger than I am. It emerges when I need it, not when I want it. And right now I need it more than anything. I need to get across that quicksand.” With all her might, she tried to yank her foot out and dash across the River of Sand. It was stubbornly and completely stuck.
She faced the sandy waves as she tried to will her stuck foot out of the sand. Run, she told herself, run.
She focused. She tuned out the panicked conversation behind her, straining against the sand, willing her trapped body to sprint forward. Now!
Finally, she felt her self begin to split. There was her shadow self taking off, dashing across the quicksand. In no time, Pretia had watched herself cross to the other side. Then she felt the curious shock that came when her two selves collided again.
“Whoa,” Vera said.
“She just—you just—” Issa stammered. “What did I just see?”
“You saw the Princess of Epoca cross the River of Sand on foot,” Rovi said, his voice full of wonder and pride.
Gita had come to stand with the group near the crashing waves. “It’s great that she can cross. What are the rest of us supposed to do?”
“I’m going to carry you,” Pretia said.
“That’s impossible,” Vera said.
“No,” Rovi said. “No it isn’t. I’ve seen her do it.” He and Pretia locked eyes.
“I did it before and I can do it again,” Pretia said.
“I don’t know,” Vera said.
“But I do,” Rovi insisted. “I know she can do it. I’ve seen it and I’ll go first.”
“Rovi’s right,” Pretia added. “My shadow self can carry more than I ever could, move faster than I can. It’s the only way.” Pretia beckoned Rovi over. “I’ll take Rovi and when I’ve brought about thirty more people across, he can start to lead a group to Fortunus and the rest in the hideout. I’ll take you a bit later, Vera, so you can follow Rovi with a second group. I’ll come last, when everyone is across.”
She looked from Rovi to Vera and then to Gita. “Unless anyone has a better idea.”
No one spoke.
“Let’s go,” Pretia said firmly. “Rovi, get on my back.”
Rovi edged up to the quicksand waves and climbed on Pretia’s back. Go, she urged. Her shadow self took off, sprinting across the sand as if it were carrying nothing at all. Pretia watched it deposit an astonished-looking Rovi on the far side, then collide back with her physical body. “You’re next,” Pretia said to Issa. Once more, she split herself and crossed before allowing her selves to collide again.
One hundred crossings. It would take a while, but she had no choice. She was the only one who could help.
“Gita,” Pretia said, “get everyone lined up. Explain what’s happening.”
“I don’t need a princess to tell me what to do,” Gita said.
“Can’t you see I’m trying to help?” Pretia pleaded.
“Can’t you see that I don’t trust anyone in the royal family?” Gita replied. “Since when has doing what they say done a Star Stealer any good?”
“It’s not just what I say. It’s what has to be done,” Pretia said calmly.
Gita looked torn, but finally she turned and began to explain the situation to the larger group. Pretia said, “Vera, you keep count. When I take you across, lead your group to the alcove or find Rovi in the tunnels.”
It was time to go to work.
One by one, the Star Stealers climbed onto Pretia’s back. Many of them were older than she was, but their lifestyle and their time in Hafara had made them terrifyingly light.
After ten crossings, she slipped into a rhythm. The crossings became routine. Her muscles grew accustomed to the strain on her back. And she learned to anticipate the exact moment of release and relief as her shadow self took the burden of the crossing off her shoulders.
When she’d carried just over thirty Star Stealers across, Rovi signaled that he was heading into the tunnels. “Vera, are you ready?” Pretia asked.
“Let’s go,” Vera said, climbing on.
Pretia went back to work, mechanically running back and forth across the quicksand. With Vera’s group halfway assembled, a small boy in a ragged tunic climbed on Pretia’s back. His ratty hair was long and dirty, a sure sign he’d been underground for a while. He was younger and lighter than most of the Star Stealers.
Pretia watched herself split. But when her shadow self was halfway across, Pretia’s physical body lurched, and she staggered to the side. Her foot, still stuck in the quicksand, twisted uncomfortably. She fell to the ground, yanking her ankle. She glanced up, grateful to see her shadow self had made it to the other side and deposited the small, shaggy-haired boy safely.
Gita took Pretia by the elbow and helped her stand. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Pretia said. What had just happened?
“Do you need a break?” Gita asked. Her voice was filled with genuine concern.
Pretia could feel her physical body tiring, but her shadow self never tired, at least not that she knew of. “We don’t have time,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Gita asked. “You’ve been working really hard.”
“There’s more to do,” Pretia said through gritted teeth.
The next Star Stealer climbed on. The crossing went off without a hitch. Then, while carrying a girl her own age, Pretia’s physical self lurched again. Once more, her shadow self carried the Star Stealer to safety.
But Pretia took a deep breath. Her lungs felt raw, her limbs heavy. She was exhausted.
“Pretia,” Gita said. “Are you really okay?”
“Yes,” Pretia said.
Gita gave her a doubtful look.
“Listen,” Pretia said, “I told you I wasn’t going to let you down.”
“I . . . I know,” Gita said. “I can see how hard you’ve been working.”
“I said I’d get all of you across,” Pretia said, “and I will.”
“But are you going to be all right?” Gita said. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a member of the royal family, but I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” Pretia said. “Are you ready to cross? Unless you object to getting on a princess’s back.”