LITMIR.BIZ

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bring their imaginations to life, how to project images of themselves performing extraordinary things so that they might actually be able to do them one day. He remembered his last birthday before he’d left Ecrof—his seventh, when his father had promised him that he would join the ranks of the best athletes in Epoca, that he was destined for Epic greatness.

      Now all of that was a laughable impossibility. Rovi, a street kid in the distant Sandlands, was never going to be anything but a thief and a beggar.

      This year the lead-up to his birthday had been worse than usual. Because this year, Rovi turned ten. And that meant that he was supposed to receive his Grana Book. But with no adult in his life, there was no book. There had been one once, of course. Every Dreamer or Realist had one made for him or her at birth. But Rovi hadn’t been able to find his in his father’s possessions when Pallas died, so he assumed that it had been lost somewhere in his father’s exile from Ecrof. So, no book meant no destiny. Like all other Star Stealers, Rovi had no future.

      These were the thoughts that were consuming Rovi several mornings after his birthday—which had been an unexceptional day of stealing a few measly pieces of fruit and a loaf of bread, and then throwing rocks into the river Durna. Rovi woke up hot and hungry, which wasn’t unusual. A heat wave was sweeping the Sandlands, making Issa’s gang cranky and irritable. A few of the older girls had tried to steal buckets of fruit ice from a store in the Upper City the day before and had been caught by the guards and taken away to the sandlots to make bricks for a month.

      The remaining members of the gang were at each other’s throats from the moment they opened their eyes. Amrav, one of the older boys, kneed Rovi in the side. “Go steal us something good,” he said. “Make yourself useful.”

      “Do it yourself,” Rovi said. It didn’t seem fair to have to share what he stole with some of the other boys, who spent their days playing pranks on the rich kids on the way to their fancy academies.

      Amrav kicked Rovi hard. Rovi bolted up from the reed mat he used as a bed. He was already wearing his Grana Gleams—he never took them off. He couldn’t trust anyone, not even the members of his own crew. He snatched Amrav’s woven satchel and darted out of their encampment under the bridge. Amrav tried to grab Rovi, but he was too slow, and in no time Rovi was on top of the bridge, dangling the satchel down toward the muddy river Durna.

      Below him on the bank, he could hear Amrav shouting furiously. He even picked up a rock and hurled it at Rovi. But what good would that do? If he hit Rovi, Rovi might drop the bag accidentally. Rovi leaned out over the railing and dangled the bag even farther. So what if he dropped it? How much worse could his life be? He had no future. When you were a Star Stealer, you had no house, no official family, no Grana Book.

      He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced around to see Issa standing behind him, his large black eyes filled with the only kindness Rovi saw these days. Issa had been born and raised on the streets of Phoenis. Sleeping outside and stealing was the only life he’d ever known.

      “You don’t actually want to drop that, now do you, Swiftfoot?”

      Rovi did and he didn’t.

      Issa pulled a stale honeycake from his own satchel. “Here,” he said, “it’s not much.”

      Rovi felt guilty taking the cake from Issa when he could have so easily stolen one himself.

      “I know you’re disappointed about your birthday,” Issa said.

      Rovi nodded. But he wasn’t sure Issa truly understood. When you’ve never had parents, when you’ve never had the promise of a Grana Book and a future dangled in front of you, you can’t actually be sure what you are missing.

      “I know you wanted a Grana Book. Unfortunately, that’s the one thing we can’t steal,” Issa said, his lips arching into a half smile. Even the underclass of petty thieves, street vagabonds, and common criminals obeyed the prohibition against touching someone else’s Grana Book.

      “It’s no big deal,” Rovi said, trying to blink away his tears.

      “Exactly,” Issa said. “Why would you want your life to be determined by a silly book? Me, I make my own destiny. I can do whatever I want without having to worry about whether or not I’m following the instructions in a book my parents made for me when I was born. Who wants to follow those sorts of rules, right?”

      Rovi didn’t correct him. He knew that Issa’s free-spirited gang looked down on anything that came from the traditional world. They didn’t follow any rules. They weren’t Dreamers or Realists. They didn’t wear the colors of either house—which made Star Stealers easily identifiable. They didn’t follow the Epic Games. And they didn’t care about things like Grana Books. He also knew Grana Books didn’t offer instruction, they offered guidance. At least that’s what his father had told him before his death—they offered guidance as to how you might unlock your most powerful grana.

      Issa helped Rovi back from the ledge and looped a long, lanky arm around Rovi’s bony shoulder. “I have an idea,” Issa said. “How about today we sneak into the Royal Baths?”

      “But there are so many guards,” Rovi said.

      “There’s also a heat wave. Which means there will be such a crush of swimmers, there’s a good chance no one will notice.” Issa held out his hand. “But first, I think you have something to return to Amrav.”

      Rovi hesitated, taking one last look at the muddy water below, before handing the bag over to Issa.

      Rovi had hoped that it would only be him and Issa on this adventure, but of course the whole gang wanted to go. Together they emerged from below the bridge and crossed into the Upper City. They spread out as they walked, not wanting to attract attention. They took an indirect route, through back alleys and narrow walkways, until they emerged in front of a large circular building with a copper-plated onion-domed roof.

      Affluent Dreamers and Realists were coming and going through the front door. The ones exiting the building looked refreshed and glowing. Some of them carried sparkling bottles of Spirit Water, others still had wet hair from their swim.

      “The pool is in a large underground cavern,” Issa explained. “It’s fed by a secret river that runs to Phoenis from the distant mountains of Quip.”

      “And of course, only people from the Upper City can use it. Just like everything else that’s nice in Phoenis,” Amrav said.

      “Not today,” Issa said, beckoning the crew around back.

      There was a small alley between the far side of the building and one of the city walls, just wide enough for underfed street kids to squeeze through. Issa shinnied down, then got on his knees to fumble with a grate attached at the foot of the building. After a few minutes, he wrestled it free. “Rovi, you first.”

      Rovi inched past the rest of the crew and slipped down the open grate. He was in a cool, dark room. He could smell water and something else—eucalyptus, the same scent that rose from the Thera­Center at Ecrof. One by one, Issa and the rest of the gang alighted in the room behind him.

      “This way,” Issa said, leading them into a curved hallway where robes were hung on hooks. He pulled a robe off the wall and slipped it over his clothes, instructing his gang to do the same.

      The robe was enormous on Rovi, trailing behind him like a cloak. But the cotton was plush and soft, and, like so many other things that day, dragged him back to Ecrof and the luxurious linens and towels that had been provided to the students and teachers alike.

      Dozens of doors led off the hall and into the pool. Issa told the gang to spread out so they didn’t all enter at once. “And,” he said, “whatever you do, don’t attract attention. Enjoy the water, but don’t show off.”

      Rovi barely heard him. He had already stepped through a door to the pool. The pool was the most incredible thing he had seen since the impressive sports facilities at Ecrof. He guessed it was the size of two basketball courts. On one end was a wading pool for soaking or lounging, and on the other was a set of diving

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