The Ruby Moon (3 page)

Avery itched to get out and see it.

“It will house the biggest events of the Olympiad,” one of the scouts explained. “His Majesty has hired the best workers to build it, sparing no expense.”

“And the king himself visits every day to make sure the builders are on target,” the second cut in. “Rumor is, he’s willing to bankrupt the realm to make sure everyone at these games is the happiest they’ve ever been.”

Avery noticed what the scouts left unsaid.

No one is allowed to be unhappy.

“Or what?” she mumbled.

“Appearances mean everything to this king,” Kendrick whispered beside her while the scouts continued talking. “He doesn’t care if you truly are happy, so long as you
look
like you are.” He paused then whispered, “Have you thought of anything new from your mother’s stories yet?”

Avery shook her head. Kendrick exhaled loudly.

“Anything else?” Tuck asked the scouts.

They looked at each other and seemed to hesitate.

“There is one more thing,” one said. “The king is still searching for a runner to represent the crown in the half-mile race. It’s eight laps of 110 yards each, and the winner receives a private audience with the king.”

Avery sat a little straighter and looked from member to member of the council.

“Won’t anyone volunteer?” Tuck asked.

The scouts shook their heads. “His Majesty believes victory at the Olympiad will signal God’s favor on his reign,” one said. “So even the most competent runners are refusing, for fear the opposite will prove God’s displeasure.”

Tuck thanked the scouts and dismissed them.

Avery didn’t hesitate. “I can run. I’m fast. And I know how to endure distances like that.”

She hoped she sounded more casual than she felt, because a half-mile run was a killer—long enough to exhaust a person but too short to allow you to slack off and pace yourself without losing. Still, her heart kicked up the way it did when an idea energized her.

This could be my chance to meet the king!

But Tuck had already moved on to other matters.

Avery couldn’t sleep. She lay there rolling questions over in her mind.

How did it benefit the royal family to pretend the king’s son died?

What if the king never knew his son lived?

Could Kendrick be the answer to our problems?

The answers could mean freedom or death. She needed to know which.

“You’re thinking about your brother, aren’t you?” Kate asked.

Avery rolled over and shrugged.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Kate continued. “And you’re right, my grandmother probably did know what happened to Henry, but she never told me. Do you remember anything about your conversation with her?”

“She said she didn’t want to have to dig another grave.” Hot tears gathered in Avery’s eyes.

Kate sat up, threw off her blanket, and moved to sit on the edge of Avery’s mattress. “My grandmother wouldn’t have killed your brother,” she said. “It was her job to bury the children of royals who died in the womb or shortly after birth. More than once my grandmother had to dig a grave for a mourning mother. She often told me she never wanted to see another dead child. I’m sure—wherever Henry is right now—he is alive and well.”

Avery nodded. She wanted to believe it. She also wanted to believe she would find him someday.

She drifted to sleep a few minutes later with the hope that Henry lived.

Kate looked unusually somber at breakfast, stabbing a fork into her breakfast potatoes.

Avery wondered if she had hurt her with the questions about her grandmother. She hadn’t intended to; she only wanted answers. She owed it to Kendrick to turn over every stone of her memory. She was just summoning the courage to apologize when Kate said quietly, “Do not go back to the tunnels.”

Kate was so direct Avery was startled.

“I know you’re fascinated with the underworld,” Kate continued, unflinching, “but don’t be. Nothing good happens there.”

“Who told you I went into the tunnels?”

“Just listen for once, and don’t go down there. You aren’t welcome.”

The familiar words gave Avery a chill, but she wasn’t about to make a promise she couldn’t keep. She was already planning her next trip, better prepared this time with a candle, matches, and a blade. But she was going.

“Don’t do it,” Kate said. “Promise me—no more exploring.”

“Not without a good reason,” Avery said evenly.

“My grandmother went into the tunnels the day she died,” Kate pushed. “I believe she discovered something she wasn’t meant to find.”

“Well, that may be,” Avery said, “but I—”

Tuck stood on his chair at the center of the table and called for everyone’s attention. The usual scraping of silverware against tin plates stopped.

“The king has been searching for the fastest half-miler in the realm for the Olympiad, and it appears he need look no further.”

Tuck caught Avery’s gaze, and she smiled. The table broke into animated conversation. The kids hadn’t had anything to be this excited about since the royal wedding.

Tuck continued, “Of course, the king has no idea a thirteen-year-old will run the race, but I believe he’ll be pleased.
We
play to win!”

The kids cheered.

“Would you like to know who will represent us?”

More cheers. Avery pushed back her chair.

“Thomas, please stand!”

Avery froze, staring.

A gangly, red-faced, shaggy-haired boy rose to a roar of shouts and the occasional whoop.

Avery didn’t know Thomas, but she was certain she could outrun him. She outran everyone back home—boys included, and this guy didn’t look like anything special. It had taken him a snail’s age to simply push back his chair and stand.

When he swept his hair aside, his wrist showed a crisscrossed web of scars. Everything about him set her nerves on edge.

“Don’t be jealous,” Kate said when everyone resumed eating. “He’ll have a lot of pressure on his shoulders. If the king believes victory signals God’s favor, the athletes compete at the risk of their lives. Better not to run and live than to lose and die.”

“I’m not jealous,” Avery said, slicing into her meat with extra vigor, but her voice squeaked, and Kate smiled.

In truth, Avery wanted to run to more than just prove she could win. She wanted that audience with the king so she could tell him about Kendrick. She had already imagined the whole scenario, complete with the curtsy and the life-changing words, “Your son is alive!”

Of course that would be a colossal risk in itself. The king could kill her on the spot if it was a secret he wanted sealed. But if it proved to be news he welcomed, he might grant her freedom. She envisioned a grateful king returning the favor of helping her find her family.

How will I ever know for sure if I don’t talk to him?

And how will I ever talk to him if I don’t run the race?

A scout appeared, wildly beckoning Kate and Avery. “Quickly!” he said. “You’re needed in the kitchen!”

One of the kitchen girls hadn’t shown up to help with breakfast, and the others were a mess of gossip and fear. Their eyes and noses were red as they spilled the details. “We’ve looked everywhere!” one said.

“We assumed she overslept,” another explained, “but she’s nowhere to be found. We’re afraid something terrible has happened.”

This signaled a chorus of cries from the rest.

“It’s too early to panic,” Kate said, throwing a glance at Avery. “Sometimes people like to explore, even when it isn’t in their best interest.”

Avery called over the din, “She may be back by noon with a good explanation. Sometimes people explore for all the right reasons. Let’s wait and see.”

When noon came with no sign of the missing girl, word spread like wildfire. Comparisons were made to Edward and his sudden disappearance. Questions floated around the lunch table.

Where could she have gone? What if she’s in danger? Could she have left by choice?

Things only grew worse the next morning when a boy with the courage of a housefly went missing from his bed. By supper a third child had disappeared.

“What’s happening?” Avery whispered.

Kate, in a rare moment of vulnerability, looked as frightened as the rest of the thirteen-year-olds. “I don’t know,” she said, “and I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”

Who would be next?

That kids were snatched from their beds in the night and whisked off to who-knows-where was chilling, but that they were also grabbed midday was doubly terrifying. The cabinet began performing roll calls before every meal.

Each time, someone was gone.

All excitement about the Olympiad had vanished with the missing kids.

The council questioned each missing kid’s friends and work partners.

Was he happy?

Had she been acting strange before she disappeared?

Did you notice anything unusual?

Each interview raised more questions than answers.

“This may sound heartless, Avery,” Kate whispered from her bed one night, “but not only are our friends disappearing, but our workload is getting harder. We won’t be able to keep up if we lose any more.”

“That
is
heartless, Kate. I’m worried about who’ll be next. It could be any of us.”

“The problem is,” Kate continued, “if we can’t keep up with our workload, the few adults who know about our existence in the castle will have no reason to keep our secret.”

The girls lay back against their pillows, Avery too nervous to go to sleep and alert to every sound. Even with scouts posted outside the bunkroom door around the clock, how could anyone feel safe?

That question was answered in the morning when Thomas—the runner—didn’t show up to breakfast. He was often late. But after one of the other boys went to look for him and came back eerily white and shaken, everyone knew.

The dining room erupted in a frenzy.

Tuck caught Avery’s eye from across the table. “Meeting after breakfast,” he mouthed.