The Ruby Moon (5 page)

Avery and Kate huddled as they moved down the stone steps—the candle between them sending eerie shadows dancing ahead. Avery felt guilty that she hadn’t told Kate about the woman who had grabbed her arm or that she had gotten lost on her second trip.

But how many secrets is Kate keeping from me?

They reached a landing where a dank passageway formed what appeared to be an endless tunnel ahead. Tiny room-like alcoves jutted from the main passage. Some were large, like sitting rooms, capable of holding midnight court for all the thirteen-year-olds. Others were small and could serve as tiny bedchambers or washrooms. Avery whispered these ideas as they walked.

The deeper they moved into the tunnels, the more torches they found perched on random sconces. Water seemed to drip everywhere, creating puddles they tried to avoid, and the backs of their dresses dragged through the sludgy pools. “We’d have to get used to that infernal dripping noise,” Kate said. “It’s constant.”

“We could hope it would eventually fade into the background,” Avery said.

But she knew that was unlikely.

The deeper in they ventured, the more people they found—clusters of hungry-looking, agitated characters who looked none too pleased with two well-dressed girls invading their territory. Avery hadn’t seen them on her previous visits and suspected the tunnels were filled with more people restless for revenge.

“What was that?” Avery asked at groaning off to the side.

“I don’t think we want to know,” Kate said. “Keep walking.”

Avery saw movement up ahead and thrust the candle forward. A woman with fierce eyes sat with a group of children huddled around her, a crying baby pressed to her heart. She quickly pulled a hood over her face and slunk back from the light.

“Wonder what she’s afraid of,” Avery whispered.

“Who knows what she might’ve done?” Kate said. “She’s not likely a friend of the castle. They call this the underworld for a reason. Some of the castle’s greatest enemies disappeared down here. Which is why moving down here may not be such a good idea.”

“What choice do we have? Stay upstairs until someone snatches us, or move down here and take our chances.”

Despite small bunches of people in various alcoves, there appeared to be plenty of room for the kids to live and conduct their business. Large passages remained unoccupied.

They approached a shady-looking group of men and Avery whispered, “Should we go back?”

“We’ve made it this far,” Kate said. “Let’s keep moving.”

Avery’s eyes darted as she edged past the men, and she clung tight to Kate. The men called out salty comments, but Avery focused on gathering information to make a strong case to Tuck. She was about to finish and head back upstairs when she heard a voice—unmistakable in tone—and stopped.

“Sounds like my mother,” Avery whispered.

Kate tugged her toward the door. “Can’t be.”

But even as they walked, Avery noticed the odd way Kate looked over her shoulder on their way out.

Despite the growing number of empty chairs at the thirteen-year-olds’ breakfast table, the dining room was a swirl of excitement on the opening day of the Olympiad. The kids made their predictions and wagered their chores. The scouts were given strict instructions to report back often with whatever details they could collect.

For the moment, all seemed normal again.

Avery picked at her food, frustrated not to be outside. She wanted so badly to know if anyone from home was in the crowd. Rumor had it, the Salt Sea was filled to the brim with covered boats carrying men, women, and children from throughout the realm to watch and participate in the tournaments.

“I
need
to be out there,” Avery said.

“Don’t even think about it,” Kate said, laughing.

But, of course, Avery could do nothing
but
think about it. When everyone else was finished and gone and the kitchen crew was clearing the table, Avery still sat there, resting her head against her fist, imagining ways she might escape for the day.

She sensed someone watching her and turned to see Kendrick. “Come with me,” he said.

Avery was in no mood to talk about his royal blood or the lack of details she could remember from her mother’s stories, but she remembered the day he had followed her to the library, trusting her without question.

Plus, she needed a good distraction.

Down the stairs they went and through a set of doors until they arrived at a cellar that jutted off on ground level. A door to the outside world was bolted with a heavy gold chain and lock, and Avery wondered if Kendrick had plans to pick it.

But how?

He put his ear against the door, but Avery could plainly hear the din of voices and the clattering of carts. The taste of freedom just out of reach.

“What are we doing?” she whispered.

“Just wait,” Kendrick said, clearly annoyed.

After what seemed an eternity, suddenly the noise on the other side of the door stopped.

Kendrick put a finger to his lips.

A single brass instrument Avery could not identify played a sweet, perfect melody that wafted over the grounds, slipped under the door, and filled the room.

Avery put a hand to her mouth.
My song—the opening ceremony of the Olympiad.

In all the activity and commotion, Avery had long forgotten she had written the opening song at the king’s request. Kendrick alone had remembered.

In tears, eyes closed, she listened.

She had embellished the tune her parents had created and made it appropriate for the occasion. Maybe, just maybe, if her father came within earshot of the Olympiad, he would recognize the song and know where to find her.

The kids spent the afternoon and early evening rehearsing the news that had wound its way through the castle. Their favorite update? … The king had released doves at the opening ceremony—so many that the birds made an uproarious mess on the heads of commoners and noblemen alike. This story brought rounds of repetition and laughter, complete with hand gestures and sound effects. No matter how many times it was repeated, it never got old.

For the moment at least, the thirteen-year-olds had something to smile about, despite the fact two more of their friends had disappeared since breakfast. The group was considerably smaller, and everyone couldn’t help but wonder whether he or she might be next. They started to congregate in groups more often than not.

Safety in numbers.

Avery and Kendrick met again on the edge of the roof that overlooked the water in the starlight.

Dozens of boats bobbed on the slapping sea, bearing witness to the extraordinary effort the king was making to preserve his legacy.

Sitting among the spires and peaked rooftops of the castle, Avery and Kendrick talked about the secret they shared and what they thought was happening to the kids who disappeared.

“There are now more of us missing than remaining,” Kendrick said, reviewing the names on his list.

“We’ve got to link the missing with
when
they vanished,” Avery said. “There has to be some connection. We just have to find it.”

Kendrick quickly looked away.

“What are you not telling me?” she asked.

He sighed heavily. “It’s a long shot, but they do have something in common.”

It seemed an eternity before he continued.

“None of those missing pose a threat to the queen,” he said.

Avery narrowed her gaze. “I don’t understand.”

“What if the thirteen-year-olds are being released once someone officially clears them of any succession to the throne?”

“A literal reversal of how we were brought here?”

“Right,” Kendrick said. “Suppose Angelina orchestrated our capture, looking for the king’s heir. Any thirteen-year-old without royal blood is merely her pawn—disposable.”

“All of us but you, you mean.”

Kendrick nodded.

Avery said quietly, “So this means—”

“I live in constant danger. Once the group is whittled down, I’ll be the last one standing.”

“It’s time to tell Tuck and Kate,” Avery said.

Kendrick shook his head. “Telling them puts them in danger, too.”

Just then a fat, black raven landed beside them and let out a dreadful squawk that made Avery and Kendrick scramble inside.

Tuck’s voice was low. “You went
where
?”

“You heard me,” Avery said. “It’s bad enough waking up every morning to the news that another of us has disappeared. I can’t stand the thought that someday it might be you, Kate, or Kendrick. You said we needed to find somewhere to move to, so I did.”

“You shouldn’t have gone alone! It’s dangerous down there.”

“Kate went with me.”

Tuck gave her a look.

Not the right answer.

“Fine. I should have told you I was going. I’m sorry. But you should at least consider it. There’s plenty of space, and we could move quickly.”

Tuck let out a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. “But is it safe?”

“Of course not. But it has to be safer than staying here right now, wouldn’t you agree?”

Tuck had never looked so tired to her before. His bright, fierce eyes were clouded, and his shoulders slumped like an old man’s.

“It might work in an emergency,” he said. “Good work, I guess.”

Avery turned to leave.

“Wait,” Tuck said, “one more thing. I don’t want you to run tomorrow.”

“I know. You don’t think I can win.”

“Listen, Avery. Already three different adults who lost their events have disappeared. Our scouts have no idea what happened to them.”

“What do
you
think happened to them?”

Tuck slid a finger across his throat.

“But the ones who win are granted private audiences with the king. It’s a chance I need to take. I’ve been training, and I’m ready.”

Avery expected Tuck to argue,
wanted
him to argue. She wasn’t sure she wanted to run after all, but backing out now would make her look like a coward. And after all the mistakes she’d made in the castle, she wanted to prove herself.

Tuck nodded and turned toward the door.