by Kobe Bryant
“I’ll tell you what else isn’t fair,” Castor snapped. “Pretia and her talent. It’s ridiculous that she’s even going to Phoenis, since she won’t be able to split herself when she gets there.”
“What do you mean?” Rovi asked.
Castor glowered at him. “You’ll see.”
“Quiet!” Janos said. “Junior Epics, you will return to your houses and pack your things. We depart for Phoenis tonight.”
“Tonight!” the entire team chorused at once.
Rovi blinked. It was happening. And it was happening fast.
The selected Dreamers raced toward the Temple of Dreams. Virgil, who’d made the diving squad, babbled about the new dive he was going to debut in Phoenis. Cyril and Nassos had both been chosen, too, giving the second-year Ecrof class the highest number of Junior Epic Squad members.
Vera chattered incessantly the entire way back to the Dreamers’ house, anticipating what events she needed to get selected for at the games in order to win the most medals. Rovi stayed quiet, thinking about bringing honor to the Sandlands and to the memory of his father.
He would show the world he was a Dreamer once and for all.
And yet he hadn’t simply been a Dreamer during the trials. Without the memories of his life as a Star Stealer, he’d never have succeeded in making the team. His past was part of his history. But he feared he would have to put that past behind him when he returned to Phoenis.
9
PRETIA
A CHALLENGE
Before nightfall, the students climbed into two boats and were rowed to the ship. Janos, Satis Dario, Cleopatra Volis, Lavinia Lux, and Sonya Pin, the diving coach, were already on board.
“Welcome, Junior Epics,” Janos said. “Get ready for the most exciting adventure of your lives. We will sail for the coast of Chaldis, then drive overnight through the Sandlands and on into Phoenis. Try to relax and get as much sleep as possible.”
The ship pulled out of the harbor, then swung northeast, away from Cora. Pretia shaded her eyes and stared toward the western horizon where the sun was dyeing the water pink and orange. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw her uncle.
“We expect great things from you,” he said, beaming.
“Even though I’m competing for the rival house?” Pretia asked.
“You are also competing for Ecrof. Don’t forget that.”
“What about my parents?” Pretia said. “What if they try and stop me?”
“Ah,” Janos said. “I was wondering if you would ask.”
“What if they show up? What if they forbid . . .”
Janos put a second hand on her opposite shoulder and turned Pretia away from the ship’s railing. “Pretia, I acknowledge their concerns about why they didn’t want you to compete. But you must understand one thing. Nothing would bring more disgrace to Epoca now than if they withdrew their daughter, the Child of Hope, from the Junior Epics.”
“I hate that name,” Pretia grumbled.
“In this case I think it will serve you well. Imagine if the Child of Hope were publicly removed from the Junior Epics. That would give the people the opposite of hope. Your name has been submitted by Ecrof and will be announced officially when we come to port tomorrow. You need to take pride in that.”
“I’m trying to.”
A dark look clouded Janos’s face. “I don’t like your attitude, Pretia. We expect our selected athletes to carry themselves with the confidence that comes from being selected. It is your duty to be confident in each and every thing you are going to face in Phoenis. This includes your parents, in the event that they grace the games. Can I trust in you to do this?”
“Yes,” Pretia said. “Yes, you can.” A wave of regret crashed over her at the mention of the king and queen. The way she had betrayed her parents by defying their wishes and running away still nagged at her.
“I’ve written to your parents again, to tell them about your selection. I’m sure they will be proud.”
“Even though I ran away?”
“Even though you ran away. You will have to face them someday, however. Probably sooner than you’d like.”
“I’ll just prove myself on the field.”
Janos shook his head firmly. “That won’t be enough. You need to explain to them your reasons for defying them, not simply by winning medals but by demonstrating that your reasons transcended a self-indulgent desire to compete.”
“And I can’t just do that by winning?”
“Another athlete would be able to rely on her performance to make a statement. But your parents will require more than that. They have staked so much on your birth. You owe it to them and yourself to articulate why you felt you needed to represent Ecrof and the Dreamers at the Junior Epic Games. When you are able to do that, you will fully understand who you are.”
Pretia’s heart sank. The idea of facing her parents filled her with anxiety. They were so confident that they knew who she was and why she existed.
“My parents think my only purpose is to bring a new hope to Epoca.”
“And you don’t feel that way?” Janos asked.
“No,” Pretia muttered. “But it’s so hard to contradict them.”
Janos let out a great laugh. “You have already contradicted them, with your actions. All you have to do is back it up with an explanation.”
Pretia shuddered. Her reasons were selfish. She couldn’t tell her parents that. She couldn’t tell her parents anything.
“Don’t worry,” Janos said kindly, “your parents will understand. You have distinguished yourself in a very elite field. They will recognize this. Remember, you searched deep in yourself before you chose to come to Ecrof this year.”
Pretia couldn’t meet his eye. She had looked deep inside herself. But she knew she’d run away to Ecrof simply because she’d wanted to, not because of any important or profound reason. She just couldn’t imagine a life without sports.
“Favorite niece, you will need to do it again to continue to find the confidence in your decisions. You bring a special talent to the games, and I cannot wait for the people of Epoca to witness it.”
“Not everyone feels the same way,” Pretia said.
“That is because not everyone understands. People often fear what they don’t understand, right?” The ship hit a wave and bucked, knocking Pretia into her uncle. “For instance, I believe you witnessed me doing something last year that you didn’t understand. Isn’t that right?” He stooped to catch her eye when she looked away from him.
Slowly Pretia nodded. She remembered her final encounter with Janos at Ecrof last year, when she’d seen him standing in front of a bust of Hurell, the Fallen God, praying over a large ceremonial flame. At least, she thought that’s what she’d seen.
“There is more to every story, Pretia. Just like there is more to you splitting yourself than some incomprehensible power that makes you a better athlete. You see, Hurell, before he turned, was closest to the Realists—more than any other god. He embodies our principles. We understand that only through embracing suffering can we rise above it. We are a practical house. We accept the reality this world presents.” Janos’s voice grew stern. “Things are not always easy. You already know that. To make peace with the suffering we will encounter, we must elevate and praise it, not allow it to control us. Do you understand? We are guided by our fears into strength.”
“Sort of.”
“Embrace what most scares you. Relish the pain that comes your way and it will cease to be pain. These were the lessons of Hurell. And don’t be quick to judge or fear what you don’t understand, because you would not want others to do that to you. Keep these things in mind and you will do well in Phoenis and beyond, favorite niece.”
“I’m your only niece,” Pretia reminded him, as she often did.
“And you are also one of
my star athletes,” he said. “Try to enjoy the voyage. The games will consume you soon enough.”
* * *
Janos’s words soothed Pretia. She joined her teammates in races up the masts and in diving contests when the boat anchored in the late afternoon. She raised her voice to the stars for the Ecrof fight song before bed and slept dreaming not of her parents’ anger as she’d worried, but of racing around a track in the Sandlands in front of a massive crowd who didn’t care that she was the crown princess.
In the early morning, the shoreline of Chaldis was already visible on the horizon. By the time the squad had finished breakfast, the ship’s crew was dropping anchor, and a long boat had rowed out to carry everyone to the port.
Chaldis was at the eastern edge of the Sandlands, a bustling port town filled with commerce and transport. There were boats laden with imports and exports, as well as ferries to the islands and even mainland Epoca.
Two luxurious vans with fully reclining sleepers were waiting outside the harbor. The kids clambered on, followed by the Trainers. Pretia pressed her nose against the window and watched Chaldis pass by—a busy, crowded city of small cobbled streets, colorful markets, and clay-colored buildings with purple and blue turrets.
Soon they were on a long road that led from the city into the desert. The rich, yellow sand rolled away in all directions. There were flat areas and areas made up of hundreds of small hills. The wind had carved small textured ripples into the sand that gave the illusion of thousands of black lines. At night, the setting sun dyed the sand orange, then umber, until it was swallowed by shadow.
In the morning Pretia was woken by the van’s wheels rumbling over a rough patch of road at the same time that she felt someone grab her arm and tug excitedly. “Wake up!”
Pretia rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Rovi’s face was inches from her own and he was chattering excitedly as he pointed out the window. “Look quick or you’ll miss it,” he exclaimed.
Pretia glanced out the window, her vision still blurry with sleep.
Her eyes settled just in time for her to catch a glimpse of a magnificent palace crowned with white and silver domes standing at a distance in the desert.
“That’s the Moon Palace,” Rovi cried.
“We’re here?” Pretia asked groggily.
“We’re here!” Rovi confirmed.
Pretia yawned, momentarily wishing to go back to sleep. But then she saw the city emerging in front of her. Her mouth dropped open.
Phoenis rising from the desert was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The city was golden—a bright hill shining in the brilliant desert sun. All around it was a wall. Beyond the wall was the city, with its neighborhoods stacked on top of one another until they rose to a plateau.
“Up there,” Rovi said, pointing toward the highest point, “that’s the Upper City. That’s where the Temple of Arsama and the Tile Palace are. Down here, where we enter, is the Lower City, which is not as nice, of course. But that’s my old home. Back when, you know, I didn’t have a real home.”
The Lower City seemed nice enough to Pretia. More than nice. It was stunning. There were golden buildings everywhere, or buildings that looked made out of gold.
“It’s the crystals in the sand that make them glitter like that,” Rovi explained when she asked. “If you get caught as a Star Stealer, you get sent to make sand bricks. The worse your crime, the longer you have to stay away and make bricks. It’s not so bad, really. Eventually they send you back to the streets.”
“Were you ever caught stealing?” Pretia asked.
“Never!” Rovi replied proudly. “I was too fast. I was one of the few Star Stealers who never got caught. That’s why they called me Swiftfoot.”
The van rumbled through the wondrous chaos of the Lower City. Purple and blue silk fabrics fluttered everywhere. All around were small temples, crowded markets, and people cooking delicious-looking food in outdoor stalls.
Slowly they wound their way up and up through the narrow streets, which gave Pretia time to look at everything. There were street performers and musicians, artists creating sand paintings, and living sculptures. They passed through gates, now and then catching sight of the river below.
Rovi leaned over Pretia and pointed out the window. The van was rolling over a bridge. “Down there by the river is where my old gang camps,” he said. He craned his neck. “That’s weird.”
“What?”
“I don’t see any sign of the camp. Even when we clear out during the day, there’s usually some cooking stuff or blankets or—” He half stood in his seat to get a better look, then toppled into the window.
“Maybe they moved,” Pretia said. Her mind was elsewhere.
They were approaching the Upper City, and she began to see banners advertising the games, expressing support for House Somni and House Relia and praising the eight elite academies, including Ecrof.
Pretia’s excitement began to grow. This was actually happening. She was going to compete!
The van rumbled over a massive bridge and passed through an ornate gate decorated with a mosaic of hundreds of thousands of glittering tiles. They were in the Upper City.
Pretia gasped at the sight of so many tiles everywhere. The entire city seemed be awash in color, glinting and glimmering in the bright sun. She widened her eyes to take in the vaulted horseshoe arches stacked atop one another, crowned with blue and purple turrets. There were patterns and designs everywhere, wonderful symmetries and stars made out of millions of shimmering tiles.
Pretia pressed her nose harder into the window to get a better look.
“If you think this is something, just wait until you see the Tile Palace,” Rovi said.
“I can’t wait,” Pretia said.
The van had reached the plateau of the Upper City, which was much wider and vaster than Pretia had thought from below. Up top she could see that the city stretched out of sight in all directions, but from where she was sitting, neither of Phoenis’s most famed landmarks, the Tile Palace or the Temple of Arsama, were visible.
From the angle of the fiery sun, Pretia could tell they were heading west. Everywhere she looked she saw signs of the upcoming games. Vendors were selling T-shirts for the rival houses and also the rival schools. There were imitation medals and trophies, flags, scarves, stuffed Realist Owls, and plush versions of the Dreamer Pegasus. Paper vendors hawked programs and brochures.
The van slowed to a stop at the foot of a towering arch that was blocked by a massive iron gate. The driver leaned out and conferred with a guard who wore a bright red hat. The guard nodded and waved at someone out of sight. The large iron gate began to lift, and the van rolled through.
Pretia heard the gate fall into place behind her, but she didn’t look back. She was too entranced by where she was: the Junior Epic Village.
The van headed up a straight road that divided the village in half. One side was decked out in blue, the other in purple. There were young athletes everywhere, running, jumping, stretching, spinning, and flipping.
“The competition,” Vera said, leaning over Pretia to look out the window.
“We’ll crush them,” Eshe said with a grin.
“But they’re also our teammates,” Pretia said. “We’re mainly competing for House Somni.”
“Sure,” Vera said. “But for ourselves, first and foremost.”
“Vera, that’s terrible,” Pretia said.
“It’s true, though,” Vera said. “And anyway, the more I win, the better it is for the Dreamers and Ecrof. I mean, you’re going to do whatever it takes to win your events, right?”
“Of course,” Pretia said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Vera lowered her voice. “Because I suspect you restrained yourself at swim trials.”
“I had my reasons,” Pretia muttered.
“Don’t worry about some silly pr
otest,” Vera said.
“Vera,” Pretia said, “I’m here to win, and I’ll do exactly what it takes to win.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what,” Pretia assured her.
The van stopped. Janos, who had been sitting up front, stood. “All right, Team Ecrof. Welcome to the Junior Epic Village. This is a haven for athletes and athletes alone. No one from Phoenis or elsewhere can enter. No family members. No fans. Not even former athletes. This is your sanctuary away from the games. And you will obey the rules of the sanctuary. The girls will never trespass into the boys’ tower and vice versa. All room doors are to remain unlocked at all times. No outsider visitors. No contraband. No sneaking around.” Then he narrowed his eyes, taking in each student in turn. “No Dreamer will enter the Realist Village and no Realist will enter the Dreamer Village. Do you all understand?”
Murmurs of assent rippled through the van.
“Now, before we get out, I need to educate you about the Junior Epic Code,” Janos continued. “No Ecrof athlete has ever violated this code. And no athlete of mine will be the first. If you do, you will be expelled both from the games and from Ecrof.”
Pretia glanced at Rovi and Vera and saw identical horrified looks on their faces.
“Never are you to leave the athletic village or the venues. You are here for sports and only sports. This is not a place for your opinions and ideas. You compete. You win or you lose. You do it again. You are in Phoenis for the glory of sport and Epoca and not for your personal agendas. Am I clear?”
“Yes,” the team chorused.
“When we exit this van, Dreamers and Realists will part ways, coming together at the various ceremonies and on the field and in the pool. You will have ten days to train and acclimate, followed by the opening ceremony and the parade of past Junior Epic Champions—something to which I imagine you all aspire.”
Pretia could feel Vera literally vibrating with excitement at the mention of this parade.
