The Princess Games: A young adult dystopian romance (The Princess Trials Book 2)

by Cordelia K Castel

  Its banks are stretches of gray rock that give way to a thick forest of pines, their tips as sharp as umbrella points. I can’t tell in the fading light if the river is deep, but the water flows around jagged rocks in its middle, which suggests that it is not.

  “Vitelotte,” I whisper into her ear.

  “Lotte,” she says.

  “We need to move to the left.”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” she replies.

  As we continue to drift down, the crashing of water against the rocks drowns out the drones’ blades. I glance down and sport a dark mass swimming beneath us. It’s long with a thick tail and stubby legs that jut out from each side of its rounded belly.

  I don’t know the difference between a crocodile and an alligator, but when it rises and opens its jaws, I shake Vitelotte.

  “What?” she says.

  “Rise.” The pitch of my voice elevates. When the glider continues drifting down, I shout, “Go up.”

  “The right pedal doesn’t work.” She leans down and chokes. “What’s in the water?”

  Nausea ripples through my insides. Whoever deactivated the glider assigned to me is now tampering with Vitelotte’s board. As we continue toward the river, more of the giant reptiles gather.

  I say, “Just—”

  Something hard hits my left arm. I flinch, and a breath hisses through my teeth.

  “What now?” she says between ragged breaths.

  My gaze darts toward the bank. I can’t see anyone hiding within the trees, but that’s the whole point of the camouflage. “I don’t—”

  Another hard shot hits my temple, and pain radiates through my skull. “Ouch.”

  Vitelotte flinches. “Ouch.”

  “Someone’s shooting at us.” I tap her shoulder. “Go higher.”

  As she rises, one of the missiles lands on the side of my legs, making me wince. It can’t be silk bullets, as those penetrate the skin, so maybe these shots are coming from an air rifle. I glance down and find dark figures running along the riverbank.

  “They were trying to make us fall into the water,” I snarl.

  “The Nobles and Guardians are teaming up to eliminate you.” Vitelotte explains that Ingrid has offered any girl who kills me the chance to become her lady-at-arms. It’s no surprise as she made that offer to Berta, who nearly killed me. “That Constance girl with the ringlets offered me a crate of vodka if I would push you out of a window.”

  My heart sinks. “Oh.”

  Vitelotte turns her head and meets my eye. “I refused, of course.”

  “I know.” Our harrowing aerial adventure is proof that she has no intention to kill me or let me die.

  “They’re all making alliances.” She shakes her head. “As if scheming could win them the heart of a prince.”

  My gaze rises to the drone following our every move. Scheming worked for Queen Damascena and Lady Circi. Something bangs against the underside of our glider, and my heart leaps.

  Vitelotte stiffens. “They’re trying to knock out its engine.”

  Without being prompted, we rise further away from the river. It bends, and we drift away from the swimming reptiles, and over the forest.

  “Let’s find somewhere safe,” I say. “If we split up, they’ll leave you alone, and—”

  “No,” she says. “You’re safer with me watching your back.”

  I shake my head. It’s not like Vitelotte and I were friends in Rugosa, and she knows how much risk she’s taking on by staying at my side. It’s madness for her to get hurt when everyone has overlooked her until now.

  Silence stretches out between us. I don’t know how to ask why she would go so far to help a stranger when others like Emmera would band against me for personal gain.

  Vitelotte exhales a long breath. “I’ve seen what your family does around Rugosa. The Calicos might be quiet, but you’re good people. When Mom died and left us with two newborns, your mother brought enough cactus fruit to keep us going until the Guardians approved the transfer of Grandma’s water rations. Consider this our thanks.”

  A lump forms in my throat. “I didn’t know.”

  “Your parents don’t like to brag about all the good they do, but some of us notice,” she says in a pointed tone.

  The beginnings of tears sting my eyes. Her words have reached my heart, but the thought that my actions have put Mom, Dad, and the twins in danger makes it shatter.

  Another pellet hits the underside of the glider but misses the engine. We’re floating over a clearing, and four attackers run through the trees. Three guardians joined forces with one Noble. They probably laid in wait for the only girl without a glider.

  The shooting becomes frantic, and the girls take down two of the drones following us. A few of the shots hit the engine and make it sputter. We sink a few feet, but the attacks finally stop when we pass over a chasm. On the other side is a broadleaf forest of oaks and maples and birches. I twist around to see if the girls are mounting their gliders, but nobody rises from the trees.

  “Do you want to find Gaia’s statuette?” I ask.

  Vitelotte shakes her head. “There’s no point since Emmera has the map.”

  After a few more minutes of peaceful drifting, the motor slows. Vitelotte lowers it to the ground, and we continue on foot through the woods. Golden light trickles through the forest’s thick canopy and illuminates our way over the uneven ground. Twigs and dry leaves crunch underfoot, and an earthy scent fills my nostrils.

  We take turns carrying the glider in case we need to use it as a weapon or a means for escape, but our steps falter when the breeze carries smoke and the faint scent of cooking meat.

  I grab Vitelotte’s arm. It’s probably one of the Amstraadi groups. They’re the only girls I can imagine being capable of hunting food and setting up camp. Guardians probably also have that skill, but they’re too busy hunting us.

  Vitelotte places a finger on her lips, and we pause. The smoke comes from somewhere on the left, where we also hear the sounds of female laughter. She flicks her head toward a sprawling oak whose thick branches curl toward the ground. I give her a sharp nod, and we creep toward the tree.

  When we reach its base, my foot catches on something soft. I trip and land on my hands and knees.

  Vitelotte kneels at my side and whispers, “Are you alright?”

  “Fine.” I turn and peer down at the base of the tree for signs of a dead animal. The dim light obscures my view of the soft object that made me fall, but my eyes adjust. I find the outline of something that camouflages with the fallen leaves and roll it over with my foot.

  A shock of blonde hair catches the light. It’s long and straight, just like Emmera’s.

  Shock punches me in the gut, and I clap both hands over my mouth to muffle a scream.

  Vitelotte doubles over and lets out several gasping breaths. “Who is that?”

  I shake my head. With the face paint, there’s no telling if this is the girl from our village. I can’t a see silver glider anywhere near the body, and I can’t tell if she died from the fall or if someone killed her.

  Rapid footsteps approach from beyond the trees, and my stomach drops. I scramble away from the sprawling oak with Vittelotte at my side.

  We run over fallen logs, through streams, and past a herd of animals whose eyes glow in the doom. Whoever is following is swift, determined, relentless. The forest slopes uphill, and our breaths become labored as we race away from our pursuers. They’re either the girls with the guns or whoever was responsible for what happened to the blonde girl.

  Fatigue sets my lungs ablaze, and exhaustion weighs down my thighs, but I power through until there’s nowhere else to run. The slope ends with a thirty-foot drop. Somewhere between now and finding the girl’s body, we’ve lost the glider. I completely forgot who was supposed to be carrying it.

  “Jump,” I whisper.

  Vitelotte nods. “One, two, three.”

  We both leap. A stomach-churning second later, I l
and in a crouch, and Vitelotte executes a perfect landing roll. My gaze catches the glowing eyes of a creature that might be a large fox. It darts to the left and disappears from sight. I grab Vitelotte’s arm and pull her in the direction of the vanishing animal.

  Up ahead beyond a growth of saplings stands a thick tree that looks like several smaller trees woven together to form a hollow. We bolt toward it and duck inside.

  The air is damp within the large plant, filled with the mingled scents of animal musk and rotting leaves. There isn’t much space to do more than crouch. I press my lips together and breathe hard through my nostrils. My limbs won’t stop trembling, and I think it’s because I’m dreading yet another fight.

  Vitelotte’s makeup artist also darkened the whites of her eyes, and I can’t see her in the dark. Unless whoever is chasing us is wearing heat-seeking goggles, they should run past.

  A pair of dark figures jump down. They pause for a moment and look from side to side. One of them points left, the other points right, and they separate.

  Neither of us speaks for several minutes. Me, because I’m afraid the girls might return, but Vitelotte rubs her chin as though deep in thought.

  “They’re from Amstraad,” she whispers.

  “I think they were hunting us,” I whisper back.

  “Hunting you,” she says.

  I can’t disagree. Last night, when I thought the hijacking was real, I electrocuted one of them, set her on fire, and shot her friend. They’re probably out for revenge. We sit within the den in silence, and I wonder what we should do next. I don’t know if the girls were part of the camp and will return to their comrades, or a different group genuinely seeking Gaia’s treasure.

  A weary breath slips from my lips. If Queen Damascena isn’t threatening the lives of my family, then the other contestants are trying to kill me. And now I’ve dragged Vitelotte into this mess.

  “They want me.” I pull off the backpack, ease its zipper open, pull out the ax, and attach the gaslighter to my belt. “If you change your mind about going it alone, I’ll understand.”

  She shakes her head and clasps my shoulder. “Harvesters stick together.”

  I wrap my hand around hers and squeeze. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she whispers.

  “What?”

  “I said nothing when they were calling you a murderer for saving us. When they kicked you off the bus, I should have joined you.”

  My mouth drops open. “I wasn’t expecting—”

  “I just sat there, safe and terrified.” Her breaths become harsh and full of self-recrimination. “I did nothing while they plotted against a Harvester girl, and the same fat amount of nothing when they hunted you with guns.”

  “Well…” Words dry up in the back of my throat.

  Back then, I had felt sick with betrayal. I’m still sore about how so many of the girls sat back and allowed Ingrid to rally others against me. Maybe they were scared, like Vitelotte.

  Maybe some of them still remembered the doctored footage of Lady Circi dragging a naked girl away from Prince Kevon. I don’t know. But I once did nothing while another Harvester girl needed my help, and that’s a burden I’ll carry for the rest of my life.

  Vitelotte reaches into the pack and pulls out the chainsaw and a hunting knife with a seven-inch blade. “If I can help, it might make up for failing you yesterday.”

  I shake my head. It took a knife in the back and nearly dying to put things into perspective. Mom was right when she said one girl can’t save the world, just like she said years ago that a frightened nine-year-old wasn’t capable of stopping a guard from committing murder. Such intense, irrational guilt caused my obsession with Ryce Wintergreen, a man I only know from afar.

  “It’s me who owes you,” I whisper. “Because of you, I didn’t fall to my death or get mauled by a pair of ligers.”

  Her silence tells me she isn’t remotely convinced, and I exhale a weary breath. We’ve got bigger things to worry about right now, and we can’t crouch in a tree hollow all night. Neither of the girls who followed us show signs of returning, and I’m about to suggest we leave, but the sounds of two new sets of feet landing close by makes us both freeze.

  By now, all traces of the sun have disappeared, and dark clouds cover the sky. Whoever is moving toward us also wears camouflage, and I see nothing but the glow of a tablet computer.

  “Are you sure she’s not dead?” says an approaching voice. “It says here that she hasn’t moved in ages.”

  “Shhh!”

  Dread rolls through my belly. What on earth was on that tablet computer? My coordinates? My hand flies to the tiny bulge over my breastbone. They can’t be reading coordinates from the tomato pendant. Nobody knows about it except Prince Kevon and the Thymel siblings who made my ballgown. I wrap a hand around my Amstraad cuff and shake my head. This is a new monitor from the royal physician.

  A tiny light flashes on the buckle of my belt, and I clench my teeth. If they’ve installed cameras in our clothing then it makes sense that they might also add a few trackers.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” I whisper.

  Vitelotte shakes her head. “Too late.”

  The footsteps are heavy, confident, and they crack twigs underfoot. Vitelotte gives me a nudge to get ready, and my hand closes around the ax. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but if they attack first, I’ll retaliate with full force.

  “She’s probably injured.” The first voice sounds gleeful.

  The other girl chuckles. “It makes our job easier.”

  “Can you move around them and attack from the back?” I whisper to Vitelotte.

  She nods and crawls out of the burrow. Within seconds, she disappears into the dark, and all I can see is the glow of the tablet computer’s screen.

  “Did you hear anything?” the first voice whispers.

  “What?”

  “A rustling sound.”

  She chuckles. “It’s her.”

  With a click, the beam of a flashlight illuminates the trees. “Zea-Mays Calico,” says the gleeful voice. “Show yourself.”

  I make a loud whimper to distract them from Vitelotte, and the beam shines into the hollow.

  “There you are,” says one girl.

  “Who are you?” I crawl out of the burrow, hoping I’ve given my new friend enough time. A tiny voice in the back of my mind asks what I will do if she has escaped into the woods, but I shake it off. “Are you contestants?”

  “Not for the role of the next queen,” she replies.

  “Let me guess,” I inject as much boredom as I can into my voice. “Someone offered you the role of lady-at-arms in exchange for my death?”

  A tense silence stretches out for several heartbeats. I don’t know if they’re shocked that I’ve worked out their plan or disconcerted by my silence, but I can’t let their attention waver from me for much longer, in case they find Vitelotte.

  “Then you’re from the Guardian Echelon.” I rise to my feet with the ax. “Care to share your names so everyone in Phangloria knows who’s trying to murder me?”

  The girl’s painted face splits into a grin of uncamouflaged teeth. “Minnie has jammed the camera’s broadcasting signals, and we found a canister of QuickBurn in one of our packs. By the time the drones find your burned, broken body, all our forensics will be ash.”

  Bile rises to the back of my throat, and I grind my teeth. This is no treasure hunt. It’s another of those multi-pronged murder attempts. If the ligers don’t eat me, the malfunctioning board. If they fail, the crocodiles, and if that doesn’t work, my fellow contestants.

  “Thanks for letting me know.” I swing the ax toward their heads. It’s time to send a message that Zea-Mays Calico is no scapegoat, sitting duck, or sacrificial lamb.

  Chapter 4

  The girl ducks, but my ax hits the side of her flashlight, sending it flying across the air. It lodges in the ground, creating a beam of light. My attacker points a gun at
my face. I jump back and a pellet hits my breastbone. Pain explodes across my ribcage.

  Crying out, I stagger back and clutch my chest, but with another crack of her gun, the pellet misses my eye by a finger-width and hits my brow. The shock of the blow steals my breath, and for the next second, I can only reel.

  At my next inhale, blades of agony race across my skull. It’s so bad I can’t feel the pain in my breastbone. I duck and want to curl into a ball like an armadillo, but a third shot skims the side of my arm and galvanizes me into action.

  With one eye clamped shut, and the other dazzled by the flashlight, I charge at the shooter and swing.

  Another body slams into my middle and knocks me to the ground. I hit the back of my head on a rock, and the ax slips from my fingers. My last thought as the butt of a gun presses into my eye socket is of Vitelotte. Despite everything she has said about owing my family, I can’t fault her for running.

  The girl holding the gun slams her weight onto my ribs. I can’t breathe, I can’t shift her weight. My fingers grope around for the ax I dropped, but they close around a rock the size of my fist. I clench my teeth and aim for her face, but she jerks back.

  She grins, her white teeth glowing in the light. “Thank you for making this so easy—”

  Choking sounds cut off her words, and her weight rolls partway off my chest. Shoving her struggling body aside, I scramble to my feet and away from her and Vitelotte.

  “Tulip,” screams the girl holding the computer tablet.

  With one eye still watering from the pellet, I squint around the clearing in the direction of the other girl. She has stepped out of the light, and I can barely see her with the camouflage. She shoots blindly in the semi-darkness, and I stay low and out of the range of her pellets. A light flashes from her tablet computer, and I reach for my belt and unhook the gas-lighter.

  Sending Vitelotte a silent word of thanks, I sneak through the cover of darkness and stand at the computer girl’s side. Each shot of her gun lights the dark with tiny sparks of light, telling me exactly where to aim the gas-lighter. That’s when I remember her name… Minnie.