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Epoca: The Tree of Ecrof. Ivy Claire
Читать онлайн.Название Epoca: The Tree of Ecrof
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781949520088
Автор произведения Ivy Claire
Жанр Учебная литература
Серия Epoca
Издательство Ingram
“So if it’s free, I’m not stealing it then, am I?” the boy said. “And I’m not a thief.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” And with that, Rovi darted across the ship and disappeared.
Pretia was about to go look for him when she heard a cry from behind. Castor and Nassos, another Realist, were standing in front of the two masts. “Race you,” Pretia heard Castor say. “First one up the rigging.”
Now all the other recruits had rushed to the action. Castor stood at the base of one mast. Nassos stood before the other. Vera stood between them. She held her arms in the air. “On your marks, get set, go!” She dropped her arms. The boys began to scramble. Castor was ahead at first, but then Nassos, a Rhodan Islander who was clearly used to seafaring and more comfortable on a ship, pulled into the lead. He reached the top first and let out a victorious whoop before expertly sliding down the ropes back to the deck. Castor followed, a stormy look on his face.
Next, Adira, the Dreamer in the headscarf, and Virgil, the willowy, golden-haired Dreamer boy, stepped forward. “We want to race,” they said almost in unison. Pretia watched as Virgil wound his golden locks into a knot. Adira’s headscarf whipped in the wind as she grabbed the rigging.
Once more, Vera started the race. Virgil was graceful and strong, but Adira was nimble like a gymnast or a dancer, and her quick footwork carried her up the rigging first.
Pretia watched from the deck. The excitement of the races was infectious. She heard herself cheering her classmates on. She didn’t really care who won. Just watching the kids climb—just the idea of climbing herself—was thrilling enough.
“I want to race the princess.”
Pretia looked away from the masts, where Leo had become tangled with the rigging midclimb as he raced Xenia, a Dreamer from Chaldis. Vera Renovo was standing in front of her. She had her hands on her hips. Her brown eyes were flashing and her dark skin shone like she’d been dipped in sacred oil.
“No,” said Pretia, fear gripping her as she thought of her cursed grana and of what might happen if she raced Vera up the mast. But she wanted to climb. She wanted to push herself. She wanted to rise up above the deck.
“Are you afraid of heights or of losing?” Vera asked.
“Neither,” Pretia said.
“So what are you waiting for?” Vera narrowed her eyes.
“Nothing,” Pretia said, giving in and rushing to the base of one of the masts.
This time, Adira started the race. Pretia grabbed the ropes. “Go!” Adira said.
Pretia began to climb. At first it was difficult to balance on the ropes and pull herself up. But soon she figured out how to steady herself on the swaying ladder while reaching for the next rung. And then it became easy. Suddenly Pretia was no longer aware of the unstable rope ladder, the light wind, the group of recruits standing below her on the deck. Suddenly she could no longer feel the rope burning her palms as she climbed, or her shoes slipping on the loose rope. Suddenly she could feel herself pulling away, as if she were simply climbing a set of stairs. And suddenly she could see herself racing ahead, climbing faster than she thought possible. She was watching herself beating Vera.
It was her grana. Pretia glanced up at the shadow version of herself racing up the rigging and at Vera, who had momentarily lost her balance as she realized Pretia was winning. Vera hadn’t just lost her balance; she was slipping down the rope ladder. Pretia’s heart froze. She couldn’t breathe. What if she had made Vera fall? Stop, she screamed silently. Stop! Then she felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach—like her shadow self had slammed back into her. Now Pretia was higher up on the rigging, where her shadow self had been. Except that her shadow self was gone and it was just her. And she, too, was falling, falling toward the deck. Quickly, she grasped the ropes and pulled herself to safety just in time to see Vera reach the top of the rigging and raise her arms in victory.
Pretia slid back to the deck, where the recruits were cheering Vera’s win.
“What happened?” Leo asked. “You were beating her the whole way. And then it was like you let her win.”
“Nothing happened,” Pretia said. “She just pulled ahead in the end.” She took a deep breath and looked up at the mast. But that wasn’t true. Pretia had split herself—she’d revealed her evil half, if only she was aware of it. Something inside of her was bad, and she needed to hide this from everyone.
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