by Jeff Rosen
As for Caley, she named her oroc “Fearfew.”
Commander Pike would usually lead a variety of drills. There was lots of sparring with fire-swords. Caley managed to keep her flame about the width of a garden hose unless she had to spar with Ithica, in which case both their flames would get red-hot and huge until Pike decided they shouldn’t spar together anymore.
Then there was jousting, which was a lot like the old-fashioned kind where two riders rode at each other, but with firelances. Like fire-swords, you controlled the lances with your mind. It was usually the bigger, stronger kids who did well because the big stone handles of fire-lances were heavy. The enormous Pingintee cousins were also nearly impossible to knock off their orocs (once you managed to haul them on). Kip told Caley that if you got better, you could make the firelances pierce armor.
“Looking forward to that,” Kip said, eyeing Ithica.
What Caley really looked forward to was free ride. After class, everyone got to ride their orocs around the arena wherever they liked. A sort of invisible bond was said to deepen between oroc and rider over time. Soon, Caley found that Fearfew knew where to go almost before she thought it. She clutched the glowing mane-like fibers on his neck, her energy flowing to him from her fingertips, and off he went. Just as often, however, Fearfew would bolt off in some random direction, snorting with secret delight as Caley caught her breath, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck just to stay on. She could feel the powerful creature’s heart beating in his veins and was sure he could feel hers, pounding with a thrilling mix of excitement and fear. She couldn’t decide if he enjoyed these haywire aerials or was really trying to throw her. Fearfew didn’t seem afraid of her, but she felt he wasn’t exactly at ease with her either. It was usually a struggle to get him out of his stall and into the arena. He would often stubbornly refuse to come when she called and would stare back at her with his intense green, mirrorlike eyes, as if to say, Don’t think we’re friends now. I’m watching you.
Each student was responsible for his or her oroc’s care. Ithica tried to get the Pingintees to do her chores, telling Commander Pike, “I’m a princess. Why should I do bogger work?” Pike just handed her a broom and walked away, shaking his head and muttering something about inbreeding not being a good idea for orocs or humans.
Caley loved everything to do with orocs, including stable work. She delighted in taking a big, soapy brush to Fearfew and scrubbing away the sweat and salt from his sleek body. She groomed his iridescent white coat until it shone. She’d sometimes spend a whole hour just combing his mane, which was also white with metallic streaks of green, like his blaze. She felt a twinge of sadness whenever she left the stable, but the smell of oroc always slightly clung to her, which lifted her spirits.
As she got dressed one afternoon at her locker, Caley tugged absently at her amulet. Maybe at long last, her good luck charm was actually working, because for the first time in her life she felt happy.
ONE afternoon, as the class led their orocs into the arena, Commander Pike announced a new training routine. Major Fogg was standing at attention beside something that looked like a cross between one of those machines that shoots tennis balls and a miniature elephant. A faint buzzing sound was coming from it.
“Today we are going to practice trapping,” explained Pike. “Each of you get a snagger.”
There was a bin filled with pitchforks with the middle prong missing. Everyone got one, and Kip (who seemed to know a bit about snaggers) made an electrified glowing net appear from the ends of the prongs.
“My brothers used to catch me with their snaggers when I was little,” Kip told Caley. “Never let me try them, of course.”
Everyone waved their snaggers around, making various-shaped nets appear, like big bubble wands. Apparently, you could control the nets with your mind and make them any size or shape you could manage.
“Mount up!” ordered Pike, and then he marched off, snapping a salute to Major Fogg. “I leave the class in your hands, Major.”
The class climbed onto their orocs while Major Fogg flicked a few switches on the elephant thing, which began to vibrate slightly. Puffs of smoke pooted from a trunk-like tube on it.
“Right-e-o. This new invention of mine should keep the process running smoothly this year,” said the major. “The smoke keeps the venowasps nice and peaceful, and the tube can suck them back in if necessary.”
“They carried off my cousin Lyndon last year.” Lucas gulped. “Found him a week later, covered in boils the sizes of tennis balls.”
The major fiddled with the controls on the elephant. The buzzing from it grew louder, like some really angry hornets were trying to get out.
“Kip, what’s a venowasp?” asked Caley.
The elephant wobbled a bit, and from its tube flew a black-and-yellow-striped creature the size of a giant wasp, covered in shiny scales that looked like solar panels, with bladelike wings. Its head was glowing bright red like a miniature Christmas tree bulb.
“Awww … cute buggy wuggy!” Pansy Pingintee held out a stubby finger to let the thing land on it.
The bug stabbed Pansy’s finger with its stinger. The goliath girl dropped to the ground with a thud, foaming at the mouth and shaking spastically. Everyone stared, stunned, except Ithica, who was laughing at Pansy. Stable hands raced in with a stretcher and wobbled off under the strain of the ponderous Pingintee.
“That’s a venowasp,” said Kip.
A few more venowasps flew from the elephant’s tube, and everyone immediately put their helmets on and urged their orocs into the air.
Caley sat on Fearfew, unsure what to do.
“Catch one,” called Kip, flying off, “if you can!”
It was crazy hard and totally scary trying to catch a venowasp. They were lightning fast—even faster than orocs. Even if you did manage to get near one, snagging it was almost impossible. Caley almost caught one, but it disappeared in midair.
“Camouflage!” Kip swooped past Caley. “Venowasps have amazing defenses!”
Apparently, their scales could change color to match whatever was around them, making a venowasp appear to vanish.
A venowasp zipped past Caley’s head, and someone’s snagger swiped at it. Caley rolled Fearfew to avoid getting hit and spotted the venowasp right below her. She flicked her snagger and, to her amazement, found the creature in her net buzzing furiously.
“You caught the first one!” Kip gave Caley a thumbs-up.
“Princess Ithica caught one!” Petunia Pingintee whooped.
Ithica was trying to look unimpressed with herself, but Caley could see the corners of her perma-puke scowl were quivering, trying not to turn into a giddy grin. The two exchanged stares and streaked off after venowasps, their snaggers flying.
Major Fogg’s elephant invention began to swell alarmingly, then its tube belched out a bunch of angry venowasps that attacked the class. Fortunately, their armor kept everyone from getting stung, but it was still terrifying, and kids were mostly trying to get as far as they could from the nasty bugs.
“Remain calm!” Major Fogg shouted. “Just a bit of bother!”
Several venowasps linked up like a snap-together toy to form one huge venowasp and carried him right out of the arena.
“Or a bit bigger than a bit …”
“Another defense,” Kip called to Caley. “Venowasp scales are magnetic, and they can link up to—”
“Kip! Look out!” cried Caley.
A venowasp swarm appeared out of midair behind Kip, linking up to latch onto him.
Caley instantly swung her oroc under Kip’s, disappearing from view, then swooped back up behind the venowasps and caught them in her snagger with one quick flick of her wrist. Kip waved back at her with relief.
Another cloud of venowasps buzzed by, and Caley set off after them, swinging her snagger. Her arm was surprisingly strong (probably from all the mopping, scrubbing, raking, painting, ditch-digging, and log-splitting for the Gunch). Fear-few seemed to e
njoy catching venowasps as much as Caley, and he was also incredibly nimble, reacting to the speedy creatures often before Caley could even see them. Soon her snagger was full of the things. The others had hardly caught any, except for Ithica, whose snagger was also full. Caley had to admit Ithica rode well (which for some reason made her dislike her even more).
Eventually, all the venowasps were caught. Stunned kids were sitting on the ground, nervously checking their armor for stray venowasps. Commander Pike came storming out of the tunnel gate, stable hands in tow. “Turn off that thing!” he barked, pointing at the major’s elephant invention, which was just shuddering now like a landed fish and making a feeble groaning sound.
“And someone find Major Fogg!”
AFTER the class, Ithica stood in the middle of a circle of tiara twits in the stable, trying (unsuccessfully) not to look incredibly pleased with herself.
“Princess Ithica caught fifteen venowasps,” fawned a twit. “It’s probably a record!”
“Princess Ithica, you should try out for the Equidium team,” flattered another twit.
“I would,” Ithica said, as if eating worms were more appealing. “But it would distract me from my royal responsibilities.”
“You mean being a giant pest?” asked Kip. “Caley caught seventeen, and I bet that is a record.”
“I could have caught more,” Ithica shot back, “but I stopped. It was boring. Equidium is boring. Mindless entertainment for the masses. Like Gorsebrookes.”
“You’d never try out because you’d never make a team in a million years,” Kip told Ithica. He turned to Caley. “But you would. You’re a natural.”
A few kids nodded, and someone called Caley “a born trapper.”
Caley shrugged uneasily. All this talk of teams reminded her of gym class, where no one would pick her. Not picked last, mind you—picked never. Was that even legal?
Ithica must have noticed how uncomfortable Caley looked because she pivoted her perfectly prim nose toward her and said, “I’ll try out if she does. Or are you chicken?”
“That’s speciest.” Lidia Vowell shook her head. “Chickens have numerous predators, so they have evolved enhanced protective instincts.”
Before Caley could say anything, Kip pointed at her. “She’ll try out. Then we’ll see who’s chicken—I mean, who has enhanced protective instincts.”
There were cheers for both Caley and Ithica, and everyone headed into the changing rooms. Caley noticed Ithica had an alarmed look, like she’d just volunteered to jump off the roof of the castle.
Which made Caley wonder. She suddenly realized she still had no idea what the Equidium actually was. Kip hadn’t explained anything to her other than it was some sort of contest.
“Kip … what exactly happens in the Equidium?”
CALEY watched Kip position objects on the billiards table in the common room as a few kids looked on.
“Equidium rules are simple.” Kip positioned eight chess pawns on the table. “Eight teams. Players qualify during trials to play for their ancestral houses. Gorsebrookes have all been on the House Cross Cheetahs. The Cheetahs and the House Blight Bazkûls are the powerhouses.”
“Cheetahs and Bazkûls have won more than all the others houses combined,” Lucas explained with a nod.
“Each team has seven players: five defenders …” Kip placed five darts on the table, “a tracker …” he placed a pair of binoculars ahead of the darts, “and the trapper.” Kip plunked a wastebasket on the table.
“I don’t think Princess Caley should be represented with a wastebasket,” said Lidia. “It’s inappropriate.”
“Trappers catch things like wastebaskets do,” explained Kip.
Lidia replaced the wastebasket with a hair scrunchie, and Kip continued.
“All the team needs to do is track the queen, defend against her venowasps, and trap her. The team that traps the queen wins.”
“Queen?” Caley was getting more confused by the minute.
“The queen venowasp,” replied Kip. “She migrates to her breeding ground once a year to lay her eggs, at the first frost. It’s the only time she leaves her nest. Even then, you can’t always catch her. Then it’s a pretty lousy year. Venowasps buzzing around everywhere …”
“One venowasp doesn’t seem so bad,” said Caley. “I just caught seventeen.”
“Nope. Not so bad.” Kip smiled agreeably. “Of course, those were pygmy venowasps. Also, the queen is … bigger.”
“How much bigger?”
“Umm … about the size of your average bazkûl,” Kip muttered.
“The size of a … dragon?” asked Caley in disbelief.
“Stinger the length of a fire-lance.” Lucas shuddered.
“But nothing at all like an actual bazkûl,” Kip said quickly, eyeing Caley’s blanching face.
“What is it like?” asked Caley.
“Umm … worse …?” Kip offered.
“Last year the queen stung one of the defenders,” said Lucas. “He still has to be fed through a tube—”
Kip shot Lucas a look, and he stopped talking.
Caley regarded Kip with disbelief. “And you said I’d try out?”
Kip shrugged sheepishly. “But on the plus side, simple rules.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Trials
“Kipley Gorsebrooke is the densest boy on Erinath.”
“He just thinks I’d be a good trapper,” said Caley.
Caley and Neive were headed to the dining hall when they noticed a cluster of kids around the doors. Commander Pike had posted a sign-up sheet for Equidium trials. Ithica Blight had entered her name under the Bazkûls, with lame little tiaras dotting each i. Under the Cheetahs, Caley was alarmed to see her name.
“Who did this?” Caley turned to Neive, who seemed just as surprised.
Kip ambled up with Lucas Mancini.
“Are you excited to try out for the Equidium?” Kip asked Caley.
“She didn’t even sign up for it,” replied Neive. “Someone wrote her name down.”
“I did,” said Kip.
Neive gave Kip the look she always gave him (disbelief).
“Why did you do that?”
Kip gave Neive the look he always gave her (dense).
“She said she would if Ithica did.”
“You said she would,” countered Neive.
Lucas began yawning. Conflict always made him fall asleep.
Kip turned to Caley. “Wouldn’t worry about it. First-years hardly ever make teams. There hasn’t been one in years.”
“Athold Murkinblok on the Brunswick Bulldogs,” said Lucas sleepily. “He was stung by the queen and lost control of his bladder. Forever.”
“So now Caley’s not good enough to make the team?” Neive glared at Kip. “She can make it if she wants to. She’s—”
“An athrucruth!” Kip nodded excitedly.
Fortunately, Lucas had fallen asleep on his feet.
“Would you stop saying that?” Neive snapped. “I was going to say she’s a good trapper.”
“A natural.” Kip nodded again.
Neive and Kip exchanged looks. They seemed as upset about agreeing with each other as they usually did about not agreeing with each other.
Lucas woke up with a start and blinked around nervously.
“Did someone say ‘athrucruth’?”
COMMANDER Pike stood in the middle of the arena as the Equidium hopefuls entered with their orocs. Parents watched anxiously from the stands. Caley led Fearfew in. Kip was already standing beside Arrow, looking nervous but determined. Lucas trudged by with his oroc, Dream, looking like he was going to his beheading.
“My dad said I had to sign up. To build ‘character,’” Lucas told Caley. He waved weakly up at the stands to a man in a meticulous mustache and military uniform sitting stiffly beside a thin woman with a nervous face who vaguely resembled an ostrich. Lucas’s mom waved back worriedly, but his father just sat there with his arms crossed stiffly in
front of him.
The coaches came jogging out wearing tracksuits and whistles, looking like every gym teacher Caley had ever seen (way too energetic for anybody’s good and vaguely angry).
“Candidates, to your groups. Quickly!” ordered Pike.
Everyone assembled in groups. The trappers all seemed to know each other from last year’s teams. They hugged or high-fived dramatically, spoke in too-loud voices, and seemed impossibly happy, like the kids Caley used to see on the first day in every new school she went to—the ones who seemed to live in a different world than her. Now that she was living in a different world, she was disheartened to discover some things never change.
Ithica waved. Caley was so surprised she started to wave back … then saw Ithica was actually waving to the Pingintees, who were thumping toward the defenders. They were by far the largest in their group aside from Ben Bruin—a brawny third-year boy with a bear baest and a serious beard—so they’d probably make their team, Caley figured (if their orocs didn’t collapse and die under the weight of them first).
“Trials will last three days,” Pike announced once everyone had settled into their groups. “The coaches will be scoring you for their house teams. Results will be posted Sunday before dinner. Good luck to all.”
Commander Pike blew a whistle, and the trials began. Stable hands hauled something covered in a tarp toward the trappers. Major Fogg marched briskly behind it in his signature beret and khaki jumpsuit.
“Right-e-o, straight to business!” The major yanked off the tarp, and everyone flinched. But it wasn’t another venowasp-filled elephant; it appeared to be a mechanical octopus on a rotating stand, its arms loaded with small clay discs.
“Mount up! Snaggers at the ready!” ordered the major.
The trapper candidates hopped on their orocs and activated their snaggers.
“Speaking of snaggers,” the major went on, “as some of you may know, I hit a bit of a snag with my venowasp trainer … or a bit bigger than a bit. So we’ll use this until I can get the bugs worked out. Ha! Bugs! Venowasps! Little unintended pun there.”
