Aragonia was beautiful, with soft peaks and wispy clouds year-round, but it seemed at its most beautiful on the day we were set to depart for Ellis. I stared wistfully at the willows bending in the breeze and inhaled, filling my lungs with sweet spring scents.

"Cheer up. Ellis ain't so bad," said Tem. We walked side by side, behind the cooing couple in front of us.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"

Templeton laughed. The sight of his bright grin lifted my heart somewhat.

Behind me, the castle grew smaller as we approached the airship docks. Our captain and crew were waiting there. We were running late, and the reason was behind us, pulling way too much luggage for one person. Prince Ralf's blonde tresses glistened with sweat as he dragged his roller bags over the bumpy grass. He had shown up at the castle doors this morning, laden with three rolling pieces of and a surly frown.

"I was told to fly with you guys," he said. "Note that I am as displeased as you are."

He still hadn't forgiven me for siding with Marylea at the council meeting.

I cast him a sympathetic look. "Need help with those?" I asked.

"I don't need your help, thank you." He cast me a glare, as if he didn't appreciate my traitorous presence.

"Fine." We left him to trail behind us on our walk to the docks, where the Loki, our transport, was docked. We were going to take an airship across the Never-ending Ocean to the mainland, where six Kingdoms were clustered together, among them Ellis and Jin Long. The weather forecast was good, the skies clear, but I still felt like we were going to be struck by lightning or ambushed by a flock of Partridges.

The dock loomed into view – a large building that looked like a garage blown up ten times. The door was up, revealing the airship I knew so well. I took a second to reminisce the childhood trips taken to other Kingdoms with the council. Days spent with Father and Makerholf in the navigation room, charting our course, or lounging on deck with Springy and talking about the wonders of the universe.

Marylea drew a breath as she caught sight of the Loki. "When you said we were going in an airship," she said, "I'd pictured a plane. But this - this is a ship with wings."

I smiled. "Loki is something, all right."

The Loki's wings were spread in all their glory - white, shimmering canvas stretched out over a NeoAlum structure that resembled bat wings. He towered over us - a majestic luxury airship designed and built by the best engineers. It ran on the same biofuel that powered the Kingdom of Aragonia - Spriarweed. The first working prototype had been built just a few years after Spriarweed was discovered.

I noticed that the hull, usually matted with dirt and grime, was gleaming, as if especially polished to impress our Ellisian allies. This brought a frown to my face. I didn't feel like we needed to impress anyone.

The crew moved in the dim cavern of the dock. I made out two figures - a tall, stout man wearing a captain's hat, and a lean, scrawny guy in an apron. They walked down the stairway from the hull, and I gave a cry of surprise.

"Welcome to the Loki!" boomed the Captain. "A true marvel in engineering and technology. Pardon me, this is like my love child. My brother helped build it, you know. Well, Springy designed it, and all, but my brother helped make it." He grinned. "Anyway, my name is Captain Maherty, and I will be your Captain for this voyage."

"And I'll be your chef," said Fabe, sweat peppering his forehead underneath his commis chef's hat. He was beaming.

"What the Stars are you doing here?" I asked Fabe with a wide grin.

"Oh, nothin," Fabe replied, returning my grin. "Heard Ellis had the best restaurants, thought I'd pay a visit."

"Fabian comes highly recommended," said Captain Maherty, his round face sporting twinkly eyes and a bushy white beard.

"Proud of you, Fabe," Tem said, giving him a clap on the shoulder.

Fabe grinned. "Enough with the sappy stuff, it's giving me the chills." Then he scowled as if he'd seen a sewer rat. "Why's he coming along? What happened to your private ship, Prince?"

"I don't talk to the help," sneered Prince Ralf. "Are you going to put these away, or am I going to have to do it myself?"

Fabe turned back to me and rolled his eyes. "If anyone needs me, I'll be prepping for lunch in the kitchen." He gave me a wink and walked up a platform that led into the hold.

Ralf turned to the Captain and opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Captain Maherty's dreary sigh. "Treat others the way you want to be treated, Prince," said Captain Maherty. "Now, all your rooms are ready. If you would follow me into the ship, I'll show you your rooms and we'll be on our way. Oh the joy of adventure!"

**

"I'm not used to such luxury," said Fabe. "Look at how shiny these pots are." He gawked at his warped reflection in the side of a large pot.

"Of course they're shiny," said Tem. "They hardly ever get used."

Fabe fingered the pots as if they were diamonds and said, "What a waste. I'd like to take some of these home."

This was when Marylea popped into the kitchen, her fiery mane filling the doorway. She wore a bathing suit and looked rosy from baking in the sun. She had convinced Keenan to sunbathe with her on the deck. It didn't bode well for our pasty scholar.

"Hey guys. I couldn't help but noticing a really weird room on the way here. If I may ask - what's the padded room for? Looks like a bomb shelter."

A chill swarmed the back of my legs. "You don't want to know."

"And I hope you never find out," Fabe added earnestly.

Marylea's eyes widened. "Why not?"

It'd happened a few years ago, when Jin Long had cried for help to search for the royal prince, Hu Xin. We'd flown back there instantly and neglected to check the skies for Partridges. It was my first time encountering those irksome creatures, and hopefully my last.

I recalled running into that padded room, my legs so shaky I tripped over my own feet; Tem coming barreling in after me, his hand touching my back gently, urging me forward; the rest of the crew flooding in, and then, finally, the door shutting. We sat on the white benches, hands over our ears, jaws clenched. Shrieks permeated the air and ground into our skulls. My head was about ready to burst. I'd curled into a ball and clenched my eyes as tightly as I could.

Then I thought about what'd happened next in Jin Long, and my gut was drenched with ice cold water. It made the Partridges seem like a walk in the park.

I shook my head. The polished granite counters seemed very interesting to everyone all of a sudden.

"Come in, marvel at the kitchen scents," said Fabe. Bless his soul, he was changing the subject. "We're curious about something too. How did you learn to control your powers?"

Marylea's face brightened. "How do I put this?" She thought for a moment. "You know how you want to learn how to roll your tongue, wiggle your ears, or raise one eyebrow, and you practice, and practice, and practice until you can? It's like that. I willed myself to make something, and I did. It just happened."

Tem glanced at me and said, "Must be amazing."

"It is, except for the restrictions. But I totally understand why they're there." She gave us a small smile. "Oh yeah – the Captain told me to tell Fabe to chop-chop with lunch, he's starving. I'd better get back to the deck. I told Keenan I'd get him sunscreen. I've never seen someone burn so badly." She smiled apologetically. "You guys have got to come to the deck some time! The sun's great." Then she popped back out. I chuckled inwardly at the thought of chalk-white Keenan roasting and turning lobster-red in the sun.

"Captain Maherty the slavedriver," Fabe muttered, but as he went back to stir-frying vegetables, I caught a small curve of his lip. I knew Fabe enjoyed every minute of tossing sizzling vegetables in hot sesame oil. I knew because Tem and I had been his ardent fans and taste-testers since we'd met in the royal kitchens when we were children. Ten years ago, Tem and I been sent to the kitchens to fetch some herbs for the apothecary, and in the kitchen we found a scrawny, grimy faced boy. He perked up at the sight of us and asked, "Hey, wanna taste?" and then shoved us little bowls of chicken noodle soup that tasted like it'd been brewed by the Stars.

We'd been inseparable ever since. Tem and I regularly visited him in the kitchens, where we would watch him cook and listen to his dreams of becoming royal chef, traveling the Realm collecting exotic spices and ingredients and concocting exotic dishes. We sampled his latest creations, even if they were, on occasion, too adventurous for our tastes.

Then I remembered Marylea's question about the padded room, and the warm, fuzzy feeling inside faded. I frowned. Tem noticed my expression and touched my arm, as if in our twelve years of friendship I had unwittingly handed him the key to my mind. "You don't have to worry; the skies are clear," he said.

I shivered. "Stars bless my soul, I hope so."

"Quit your sweet nothings and help me get the plates," said Fabe, giving the veggies a final toss. "Stars, it's a furnace in here."

Sweet nothings? My face heated up faster than a charcoal grill. I shoved it out of my mind and hurried to the cabinet where the plates were kept.

Lunch was served five minutes later in the control room, where we got the best view of the sweeping Central Ocean.

"Did you know," said Keenan, setting his plate of pesto pasta on his lap, "That Greek statues used to be colored instead of white? The only reason they're white is because time and the elements stripped them of their color."

"And why are you telling us this?" asked Tem, forking a mushroom into his mouth.

"Because later you'll see that all the statues in Ellis are white."

Tem stared at Keenan like he'd trained owls to deliver mail.

"I'm just saying," continued Keenan, "for an Ancient Greek-themed Kingdom, they aren't very historically accurate."

Tem laughed like Keenan had said the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "We're in the Realm, not the Other Place. The Ancient Greece never existed. Nothing's historically accurate here."

Keenan sucked in a breath. "You know it's my job to research –"

"Tem was just teasing, Keenan," I said, smiling at my tutor, who looked about to explode.

"Aye aye, smarty pants," said Captain Maherty. "If you look out you'll see the Bigland up ahead."

The Bigland, a large ragged landscape lush with forests, mountains and rivers, became visible through the clouds. I'd learnt it was larger than the continent of North America in the Other Place.

"The Bigland is the closest land mass to the Aragonian Island," Keenan explained to Marylea. "Many of our allies are located on the Bigland."

"What about the Kingdoms who aren't allies?" asked Marylea.

"We generally avoid each other," said Tem.

"Look," said Fabe, a look of utter glee on his face. He pointed at a tiny speck in the distance. "There's Ellis. Home of Realm-renowned chefs." He looked up at our grim faces. "What? We can't all be unhappy to be here."

"I'm not," said Marylea. "It looks beautiful."

"You should all be grateful you get to witness Ellis' splendor," said Ralf.

He went ignored.

"Hi-ho, everyone," called Fabe. "Dishes to the kitchen, now, or they don't get washed."

I shot a bemused look with Tem, who grinned and said, "Hey, not every day that he gets to boss people around."

***

At daybreak the next day, Captain Maherty called for everyone to gather in the control room for landing. "Mighty fine view we've got," he said.

I leaned against the dashboard, watching Tem from the corner of my eye. His face was pale from waking up, his hazel hair slightly ruffled.

Beyond the windows, the mountains of Ellis emerged like ivory tusks. Twelve mountains, each with a uniquely themed hotel perched on its summit. The thirteenth, the mountain in the middle, was home of The Olympians, the best hotel and Achilles' dwelling. Dense white fog shrouded the base of the mountains, rendering the ground level of Ellis out of sight.

Some people might appreciate Ellis - people like Ralf. I thought it was a vapid black hole of self-indulgence.

"In the diamond mines they shall toil," muttered Keenan, as if in a trance.

"Alrighty, everyone," called the Captain. "We'll be landing on The Olympians in a bit. Grab a seat and buckle up." He tweaked a few dials, pushed a few buttons, then looked up at us from the control panel. "Landing initiates in twenty."

That was our cue to strap ourselves into the seats. I rung the bell to let Fabe know in the kitchen that we were landing, and he came zipping up in seconds. Half panting, he buckled himself into the seat behind me.

I heard Marylea say something with concern. "Are you all right?"

She was looking at Keenan, who was tightly strapped into his seat, looking like the royal library was burning before his very eyes.

"I'm fine," he croaked. His knuckles had gone white from gripping the arm rests.

She took his hand and I felt a warm shiver run down my back. It was all I could do not to glance at Tem.

Clouds engulfed us as we descended, and for a second we saw nothing but white. Then the majestic facade of The Olympians loomed before us, its white spire kissing the clouds. Towering cyprus trees bordered the pristine structure. Modeled after the Parthenon, the grandest hotel in Ellis stole my breath away, as much as I despised it.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful it was," said Fabe.

Tem grunted.

The airship floated to the ground and landed with a light bump, like the runway was made of marshmallows. Maherty turned around with a wide grin like he'd won the lottery.

"Haven't lost it," he said.

Fabe gave the proud captain a thumbs up.

Maherty tipped his hat. "Everybody off the ship. Looks like we got a welcome party. I'll be with you after I dock."

The afternoon sun sparkled off the white polished marble that made up most of the landing site. Standing by the grand entrance to The Olympians, looking sharp in a white tuxedo and a killer smile, was Achilles. Shaper of Ellis, diamond extraordinaire, and with as much conscience as a bowl of soup. His personal assistant Aphrodite, who moonlighted as his fiancé, stood next to him, pretty as a rose.

Ralf gave a happy cry. "Achilles, my brother!" He flew off the disembarkation ramp, headed straight for Achilles like a bee to pollen. They were "best friends," if you considered someone who ignored you until your Kingdom became one of the richest in the Realm to become your best friend a best friend.

"Ralfie!" cried Achilles, his arms wide open. They gave each other a bear hug, and my lunch, as good as it was, threatened to push its way up and out.

"Ashling Dircourt," said Aphrodite in a slurred voice. The accent was new. She, too, had her arms wide open, and I forced myself into them. "You look beautiful."

Dressed in my Caval and knee-high boots, I was hardly fashion-forward, but I smiled anyway. Aphrodite, on the other hand, was all decked out. Jewelry worth thousands of coins adorned her body, which was clothed in a sheer red dress to match her rich chocolate tresses. She had definitely blossomed from the gangly tween she was a decade ago, though I couldn't say the same about her personality.

"Thank you," I said. "You, on the other hand, look absolutely revolting."

Aphrodite's face stiffened for a millisecond before she cackled. "Ah, Ashling. Always your raw self."

I would've never thought of saying such a thing to sensitive, beautiful Aphrodite ten years ago. She was just as revolting as mother-of-pearl, and she would've had an emotional breakdown. But since she'd gotten engaged to Achilles, balloon-head extraordinaire, I found joy in testing her limits. Anyone who was engaged to Achilles was bound to have thick skin. Or perhaps a part of me wished she would realize there was more to life than being a pretty accessory hanging from a man's arm.

The resplendent couple went on to shake hands with the rest of our party. Achilles' eyes twinkled like fresh-cut diamonds when he saw Marylea.

"Who do we have here?" he boomed, as if he wanted the whole Ellisian Kingdom to hear. "It's Aragonia's brand-new Shaper! Tell me, have the stuffy Aragonians been treating you well?"

I ground my teeth together, despite my dentist's repeated warnings to kick the habit.

"They have been very nice," said Marylea, accepting the handshake Achilles thrust at her.

Achilles laughed. "Sure they have. They've missed having a Shaper."

Tem coughed. "On the contrary -"

"Come," Achilles continued, ignoring Tem. "Let me bring you to the lobby and get you checked in."

Tem shot me a look, and I shook my head. Achilles wasn't worth boiling our blood over. Achilles and Aphrodite sashayed off, and Prince Ralf jogged a little to keep up. Ellis' main export is precious stones. There was no doubt that Prince Ralf wished he was born here than in stuffy Aragonia and its willowy weeds.

We followed behind them, surveying the surroundings. Twelve mountains surrounded us, each peaked by a themed hotel - Atlantis, Arabian, Egyptian, Imperial China. The hills were linked by travellators that formed an intricate, glittering web. A dense fog concealed the bottom half of the mountains, though if one looked closely one could see flights of stairs and elevator shafts heading down through the fog.

Templeton sniffed. "The air is stinging my sinuses, the glitz blinding my eyes."

"The air is thinner only because we are high up," said Fabe. Do you smell the aroma of world-famous cuisine?" He skipped ahead of us, happier than a pigeon with a french fry. Well, at least he wasn't salivating over the thirteen casinos surrounding us.

"We're hereee!" announced Achilles, spinning on his heels and throwing his arms wide like a circus ringmaster. Behind him was a large archway that led to the hotel lobby, Ellis' motto emblazoned in gold across it: semper lucens, ardens numquam. It was an ancient language for "Always shining, never burning"; something a previous Shaper had cooked up in a drunken haze, no doubt.

The lobby of The Olympians was even more extravagant than its exterior, if that was possible. An elephantine fountain sat smack in the middle, with white statues of twelve of the Olympian gods arranged in a perfect circle. The statues glittered with gems. In the middle stood a thirteenth statue set on a pedestal higher than everyone else, which looked like it'd been carved entirely out of diamond. It was a statue of Achilles in Greek war armor.

"Oh look," I whispered, pointing at the statue. "Achilles made some modifications."

The Achilles statue on the fountain wore reinforced boots, his heel well protected by steel plates. Everyone sniggered.

"Did someone shape those gems?" Marylea asked.

"Shapers cannot shape resources of the Realm," answered Keenan. "Those were mined here."

Achilles approached a young woman behind the lobby counter who wore a tailored suit. "Meelie, my darling. See that these good folk are assigned the best rooms. They're our ambassadors of Aragonia – one of our closest allies." He winked at us, and I about barfed.

Meelie had bright blonde hair in a bun, smoky eyes and eyelashes too long to be natural. "Yes, sir."

Achilles turned to us with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm very sorry to leave you like this, but I must greet my other ambassadors." He kissed my hand, and I tried not to wince. Then he kissed Marylea's and stroked her skin with his thumb. "Au revoir, fellow Shaper. Meelie, if you would please brief them about our next activity. Aphrodite and I must go. I'll see you later, Ralfie!" He bowed. "See you at dinner, Ashling," said Aphrodite, and gave me a wave. Her golden sandals clicked on the marble floors embedded with sparkling diamonds. They disappeared around a corner.

"So," said Meelie, "I have some exciting news – the Dodger Games will be happening tomorrow at noon, and they're taking sign-ups in the Grand Hall. The prizes this year are phenomenal."

Tem groaned just loud enough for me to hear. I smiled. For someone who was good at everything physical, Tem was surprisingly terrible at the Dodger Games, as if the paintballs were pre-set to target him. Because he wasn't used to not excelling at something, he'd decided he hated it.

Meelie presented a wad of brochures with a flourish. "And here's the week's schedule, along with coupons to our fine restaurants and gallerias." She flashed us a million-watt smile. "I promise this will be the best week of your lives."

"What're the Dodger Games?" asked Marylea.

"It's like paintball. You'll see," said Keenan. His knowledge of the Other Place's culture and games always astounded everyone.

"I love paintball," said Marylea. "Shall we go sign up later?" Tem groaned again.

"Whatever you wish. It's your trip," said Keenan, and I knew Tem was fighting all efforts to punch him.

The next few minutes involved Meelie tapping the screen, turning to us to give us a charming smile every few seconds, and then finally biting her lip like she'd stumbled upon a virus.

"It says here only three rooms were assigned to Aragonia, and we are fully booked," she said, looking pained. "I'm so very sorry, but I'm afraid you will have to share rooms."

"Absurd," said Prince Ralf. "Achilles cannot expect me to share a room."

"One of them has been assigned to you, Prince Ralf." She handed a pair of room keys to him. Light and golden, they chimed like crystal wind bells.

Keys in hand, Prince Ralf waved at us with the expression of one leaving us to die in a lion's den. "See you at the Dodger Games. I'll be in the audience, cheering you on," he said, a faint smirk on his face. He directed it towards Tem, whose scowl deepened.

"Shall I assume the rest of you will split the two rooms?" asked Meelie, looking at us with arched eyebrows. "Girls in one room, boys in the other?"

Tem made a small noise. Keenan suddenly lost all the color in his face, and looked like he was in a landing airship again.

"Yes, we can do that," I said quickly.

"We'll be roomies, Ash," said Marylea, grabbing my arm. "How fun."

Keenan looked sick, and Tem looked like he'd run over a squirrel. They weren't arch enemies, but they'd never been the best of friends either, preferring to remain at a comfortable distance.

"Awesome," said Fabe, slinging his arms around them. "Slumber party!"

***

The Dodger Games arena was the same giant obstacle course I'd remembered from the past years I'd played. An apt description would be "indoor playground on steroids." The entire course was made from padded foam mats; raised platforms were lined with guns armed with orange, green, red or purple paintballs, each capable of stunning between five minutes to an hour. It is not with pleasure that I say I know, from experience, that the paintballs sting worse than a hive of hornets.

Multiple times I had sworn never to participate in the Dodger Games ever again. Getting smacked by multiple exploding paintballs was not my cup of tea, but I was always dragged into it one reason or other. Wen Xin, a childhood friend of mine, begged me to join her team last year because she was sick of losing. (We still lost, but at least we'd come in third and gotten a hundred dollar credit and a blue award ribbon. I'd given the ribbon to Wen Xin's cat.)

This time, it was my role as the mentor of Marylea, a Realm newcomer blissfully unaware of the Dodger Games' goings ons, that pulled me into the games again. The air was buzzing with excitement as Aphrodite mounted the podium to announce today's prize. I heard aahs as the audience took in her glorious blonde curls, her resplendent figure cloaked in glittering red fabric. Me, I could only think of the pain that awaited me.

"Welcome to the annual Dodger Games!" said Aphrodite from her podium twenty feet off the ground. My neck ached to look up. "Thank you for joining us tonight. To reward you for your participation, I am pleased to announce that the prize this year has been Amped! Up! Would anyone like... a thousand-dollar gift card to our shopping arcade?"

Cheers went up in the stadium.

Tem muttered next to me, "As if there was anything there that cost under a thousand dollars." He was wearing a padded suit with fine red and orange stripes running down it – our team uniform. We wore special impenetrable Dodger Games uniforms, so paintballs touched only exposed skin. They weren't always like that, but people had dropped too quickly in the previous games, and Achilles had been forced to offer better protection. About twelve teams were gathered at the entrance of the course with us, looking pumped from the announcement of the big prize.

"There's more! Winners will also choose between an exclusive spa retreat in Stone Henge, our ten-star VIP-only facility, or a fifteen-hour cooking workshop with our one-and-only Chef Jeffi. Chef Jeffi hails from the Kingdom of Jin Long, and has won twenty Ellisian stars. He has won Realm-wide acclaim with his specialty in inter-Kingdom fusion cuisine."

Fabe gave an excited squeal and looked at me like he'd won the lottery. "That's it, Ash. We have to win. We're in it to win it! Chef Jeffi is the master! An Ellisian five-star chef! Can you imagine how much I'll learn?"

I stared at him. Great. Now we had to actually try to win.

"Why the gloomy faces? It'll be fun," said Marylea, who was bouncing on her heels from excitement. "How hard could it be?"

Tem laughed bitterly. "You haven't been in one."

Keenan shook his head in agreement. "I agree with Tem on this one. It's not an easy game."

Marylea grinned. "I like a challenge."

After announcing the prizes, Aphrodite began explaining the rules. I watched hopefully as Marylea's mouth slackened. When Aphrodite was finished, Marylea had stopped hopping and her face was white as fresh snow.

"Maybe I was wrong," she said weakly.

"Is it too late to back out?" I asked.

"Not on your life," said Fabe, clapping me on the back. "We're winning that workshop."

He was lucky we loved him so much.

Achilles raised his right arm. "Teams at the starting point."

We assembled with the other teams at the entrance. I spotted Wen Xin among the throngs of contestants. She was dressed in a black and red uniform, which matched her coal-black hair and inky eyes. I waved to get her attention, and her eyes widened when she saw me. For good reason – I hardly attended the Shaper Conference, let alone participated in the Dodger Games. She did every year. She was the Shaper of Jin Long, after all.

She mouthed the words, "Love you. Talk to you later." I smiled.

Then a sound like a ship's horn blasted through the obstacle arena, and all teams sprinted onto the course.

"Go, go, go!" urged Fabe, poking me in the back.

A surge of irritation sent me sprawling forwards. The floor was heavily padded and brightly colored in red, blue, and yellow. It was like running on clouds. Hip-high walls were arranged in a maze; high enough to make a path, but not high enough to protect us from the barrage that was to come. My grip shoes got a firm hold on the slippery surface; some other participants weren't so lucky and slid to fall on their faces.

Then the attack started.

"Dodger Gaaames!" yelled someone at the top of his lungs.

Paintballs rocketed through the air, and I ducked behind a cushioned wall. "Follow me," I said to my team mates, gesturing to the path ahead.

"Ash is a veteran," Keenan explained to Marylea. "She was in Jin Long's team last year."

I wished Keenan hadn't said that. "Guys, no matter what, don't get hit by the purple ball," I said, hoping to distract Marylea from what he'd said.

"What's happens if we get hit by the purple ball?" asked Marylea, her voice frantic now.

"Instant death," said Tem gravely.

"Think about the workshop," breathed Fabe.

Marylea's voice was weak. "Not actual death?"

Fabe chuckled. "Naw, you're just out of the game."

"Weren't you listening to the rules?" asked Tem. "Remember, first person to finish the course and grab the trophy wins the games for everybody."

"Keep up, you guys," I urged. "We're falling behind."

Just then, bright red paint splattered over Tem's face. "Urgh," he grunted. Then he stiffened like a board and toppled onto the ground.

"Tem!" I clutched at my chest, feeling like I'd been stabbed.

"Aargh!" squealed Marylea.

"It's okay, it's okay! He's only been frozen for a minute. He's alright." I said heavily, realizing that I was saying that more to myself than to Marylea. I bent down and carried Tem to the wall so he wouldn't be trampled, and wiped most of the red paint off his cheek.

"Sorry, Tem," said Fabe, squatting next to me, "But we have to keep moving. You'll catch us up?"

Tem grunted and blinked his eyes. I took it as consent. I touched his hand, hoped he knew this was as painful for me as it was for him, and turned away. "Let's go, before we get another man down."

We shuffled as fast as we could in a squat. Paint splattered all around us like deadly fireworks, landing on our shoulders, hair, legs. We passed a few frozen participants and edged around them so we remained under cover.

Finally, the exit of the first round came into view.

"We're almost at the next stage. Everyone stay focused," I said. The moment the words escaped my mouth, Fabe got splattered on the head with orange paint. He groaned and fell on his side. He lay frozen in a cradled position.

I cried in frustration and started pulling him to the side to avoid the team in black-and-green who running on all-fours towards the exit. He had a steely expression on his face, as if saying, Please win this for me.

"We'll try, Fabe," I whispered.

"Orange – two minutes," Keenan huffed. "So close."

I looked behind us. "Tem should be here by now. Has anyone seen Tem?"

"He probably got hit again right after he thawed," said Keenan.

"I see why he hates this game," said Marylea.

I tried not to picture Tem sprawled across the ground, colors splattered across his face.

The exit was heavily fortified with paint ball stations on a platform twenty feet up. There were few walls around us to offer protection. I saw no option but to run for it like squirrels on a sugar-high. I relayed this to my teammates, and although their faces went cotton-white, no one could come up with a better plan.

"Serpentine, on three," I said. "One - two -"

We darted towards the exit in a snake-like fashion. The route was littered with fallen comrades, every one of them blasted with a smorgasbord of bright colors. One of them had a purple blotch on his neck. Ouch. I glimpsed medics scurrying towards us to haul him off the course.

"Pick it up!" I cried.

A wave of jubilation swept over me as I crossed the exit archway. I continued running to clear the path, then turned around to see if my team mates had made it. Marylea and Keenan were close behind me, panting but spotless.

I felt a surge of pride and grinned. "Great job, team."

Marylea turned her back towards me and pointed at a purple splotch on her uniform. "Lucky call."

I frowned. "Don't let that touch your skin, or anyone else's. Unless they're from another team."

Marylea grinned wickedly. "Gotcha."

We advanced to the next stage, where it wasn't just a simple don't-get-hit game anymore. Instead of guns, uniformed attackers lined raised platforms on both sides, each armed with a bucket of fresh paintballs of assorted colors. Walls were scattered throughout the course more sparsely. Paintballs were strewn across the padded floor, free for contestants to haul at whomever they chose. The second round was always a fiasco where contestants attacked each other while being picked off by attackers on raised platforms.

"There will be areas where no cover is available," I warned my teammates. "We will have to take down the attackers in order to pass. Watch out for other teams, too. They'll be out for our blood."

We traversed along a narrow corridor in a single file. The narrow path made me feel claustrophobic, but the high walls meant the attackers on the platforms above could hardly see us, much less hit us.

The safe haven didn't last long. The corridor opened into a wide circular space, large enough to fit a horde of elephants. Paintballs were piled in the middle in a pyramid. It was clear what Achilles meant for us to do.

"We need to down the attackers before we can cross," I said. "There's no way we can pass otherwise."

As my mind reeled with plans, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder to see An Ja, Shaper of the Sterne Kingdom. She wore silver wire-rim glasses and her straight chamomile hair, tied back in a ponytail, was matted with green paint. She only had one other team mate with her, and they were both dressed in black and purple.

"Ve're down to two," she said in a heavy Sterne accent. "Vant to team up?"

I looked at my two team mates. The same shadow of doubt I felt was cast over their faces. If we were quick enough, we could each grab a paintball and pelt An Ja and her team mate. But An Ja looked so earnest, so sincere. Besides, it did make sense to team up against the attackers instead of turning on each other.

I'd never known her very well, but it didn't hurt forging an alliance with Sterne through team games, did it?

I looked at my teammates, and each nodded in return. I turned to An Ja. "Why not? We'll cover left, you'll cover right."

An Ja nodded. "Got it."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

We trudged forwards, each team flanking the other's back. The first wall was long and narrow, and we were forced into a crawl.

"It's my pleasure to work with the beautiful princess of Aragonia," said An Ja's team mate as he scooted up to me. He was a fair boy with straw hair. "My name is George."

"Focus, George," I said. I had little patience for lotharios.

We came to the opening. I looked up and saw six attackers stationed on the platform, three on each side.

"There're three purple balls in the pile, one at the top, one in the middle, one on the bottom," observed Keenan.

"Who's the best shot?" asked An Ja.

"Ash has played before, haven't you, Ash?" said Marylea.

An Ja's lips twitched. She had seen me play last year, and no doubt I hadn't left a good impression.

"I'll do it," said Keenan quickly. Without another word, he darted into the gap, grabbed the purple ball sitting on top of the pyramid and got back before the attackers could say, "paintball." He also grabbed a second ball - an orange one - and pelted it at the pyramid. The neat pile exploded in a smorgasbord of color, and balls scattered all over the floor. A few rolled close enough for us to reach without being in danger.

"Great job, Keenan!" cried Marylea. "You never said you knew how to play."

Keenan gave a sheepish smile.

That was when the arena started raining with paintballs. We pressed ourselves against the walls as close as we could. Bright colored paint pelted the floor everywhere, painting it like abstract art.

I watched with pride as Keenan, the quiet scholar, peeked over the wall from a crouch to find a target. He ducked, and a red paintball whished past his crow-black hair. Right as the paintball hit the ground, he stood and pelted the purple paintball at one of the attackers.

"Did it hit?" I asked.

Keenan pressed himself against the wall and grinned at me. "Right in the face."

I grimaced. "That's going to sting."

"Good job, Aragonian scholar," said George. He looked genuinely impressed. How he'd figured that Keenan was a scholar, I did not know. Was it the paper-white skin, his lithe, lean body, or his eyes sparkling with intelligence?

"Only five more to go," said An Ja. With that, she pelted a green paintball at the attacker's platform. There was a cry and thunk. "Someone's out for five minutes," she said, pressing herself against the wall again. This collaboration was proving very helpful indeed.

We pelted paintballs at the attackers in a steady stream. Keenan darted out while the attackers were distracted to grab the other two purple balls, and fell another two attackers. They were all down in a few minutes, and it was finally safe to advance.

"Great job, people!" said Marylea. "I feel like we could - ARGH."

I turned around, expecting to see paint dripping from Marylea's face. Instead, I saw a dagger embedded within her abdomen.

The person holding the dagger wore a black suit, had dark piercing eyes and a grim smile.

"Assassin!" cried Keenan. He shoved me against the wall and stood in front of me with his arms outstretched. My shoulder slammed against the padded walls, and I felt a burst of confusion.

The assassin looked at us, sneered, then pulled the dagger out of her.

The blade was clean.

"Relax," he drawled. "Fake knife."

"What the heck?" yelled Marylea. "I thought I was dead. You scoundrel –"

She was silenced by a smack of orange paint on her neck, and crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Keenan pick up a green paintball and aim it at the attacker.

"Keenan, wait -"

Too late - he had already pelted the ball. As always, the ball hit right on target. The "assassin" hit the ground with a face full of green paint.

"I wanted to question him," I said.

Keenan looked alarmed. "Stars, Ash, I'm sorry. I acted on reflex."

"Vy did he do that?" asked An Ja. She gestured at the stunned attacker. "Vas it a prank? A distraction?"

"Vatever it vas, it vorked," said George, hugging himself.

I nodded, feeling shaken. I picked the dagger up. The dagger handle was made of cheap plastic, fashioned to look like it was wrapped in leather. Its blade was retractable, and also cheaply made. It wouldn't have pierced anything even if it didn't withdraw into its handle.

I looked down at the attacker. He had messy black hair and was dressed in a black suit with gold stripes.

"He's from the team of Ellis," I said, frowning.

Keenan gave a guttural growl. "Is this Achilles' idea of a joke?"

"Must be." An Ja shrugged. "He's known for doing childish things." She shook her arms, as if shaking her tension off. "Are ve moving on, then?"

Marylea lay lifeless on the padded floor, her limbs stiff. I looked at Keenan. "What'd you think?"

Keenan gave a small sigh. "Templeton, Fabe and Lea would want us to move on." He took Marylea in his arms and gingerly placed her by the wall. His hand caressed her hair, and a shiver ran through me. What I would give to have Templeton treat me that way.

"Then let's go," said An Ja. "I see other teams behind us."

***

With the help of Keenan's mad pelting skills, we got to the end of the second course without further casualty. An Ja and her team mate were grateful, to say the least.

"Ve found the right allies, Ash of Aragonia," she said, shaking her blonde curls behind her shoulder. "Now ve have to split up."

The third course was a full-fledged maze with walls eight-feet high. They were so high we could barely see the attackers stationed on the platforms that circled the maze. The first team to get to the exit won the Dodger Games trophy and the prizes Achilles offered.

"After we part ways, everything is fair game," said An Ja. "Left or right?"

I looked at Keenan. "You got us here. The honor is yours."

"Right," he said.

An Ja nodded. "Best of luck."

Keenan I headed down the right path, An Ja and her team mate to the left. I was gripped by a sudden claustrophobia as we walked between the narrow, high walls, with only a silver of fluorescent ceiling visible.

"If we win," I said to Keenan, "Fabe owes us big time."

Keenan chuckled from behind me. "I'm having fun. Aren't you?"

I had been, surprisingly, kind of having fun, until Marylea got mock stabbed. I told Keenan this, and his face grayed over.

Popping noises erupted in the distance, followed by screams. It didn't sound like An Ja or George, and I felt strangely relieved. In our short cooperative stunt, I had grown quite fond of Sterne's Shaper.

We crept in a crouch against a wall. A spattering of paintballs exploded above us, and I shrieked. We got to our knees and crawled forward. The paintballs kept coming, but they only splashed on our uniforms, away from our skin. The attackers gave up, and we were blessed with a few minutes of silence.

Surviving the onslaught of paintballs had sent adrenaline rushing through my veins like electricity down a wire, and I think it was for that reason I turned to Keenan and asked, "So, was it love at first sight?"

Keenan's orange and red uniform was now a slimy rainbow. His face was a blank. "What?"

"You and Marylea. How'd it happen?"

Keenan tone was serious when he answered. "I don't think this is the time, Ash."

I pursed my lips. "Sorry, didn't mean to intrude."

Keenan was silent for a moment before he said, "I only meant we should watch out for paintballs. Wait - stop."

We froze. I heard a faint whistling coming from my right, and turned to see a purple ball pelting towards me. Then I felt a shove on my back, and I stumbled to the ground. I heard a ball explode behind me. Keenan cried out, then tumbled to the ground. I felt a bolt of fear. "Keen!" Keenan lay in a motionless slump on the ground. "Keenan?"

The mound moved, and Keenan pushed himself up on his elbows. "I'm okay," he said, gesturing towards the purple splotch on his shoulder, just inches from his neck. He came over and offered a hand to help me up. "I wasn't going to leave you on your own."

I chuckled with relief.

We moved on at a crouch, keeping as close to the left of the route as possible. Several times, we met dead ends and were forced to turn around. The victory horn had not blown, though, so we knew we still had a chance.

Then we turned a corner and saw a glimmer of gold.

I felt a jolt of glee and grabbed Keenan's arm. "Keen, I see it."

Keenan turned to where I was looking. His eyes widened. He looked at me, alert.

"There may be other teams around," he said. "We have to be careful." I nodded.

We moved towards the trophy, scouring our surroundings for attackers and whizzing paint balls. The trophy was less than ten feet away.

"Should we make a run for it?" I asked.

"It's too risky," Keenan said. "There might be an ambush waiting."

"What do you propose?"

Keenan pressed himself against the left wall and gestured for me to do the same against the right. Then he stuck his head out an inch to survey our surroundings.

"I see An Ja and her team mate at another entrance. They have paintballs in their hands." His brow furrowed. "I do not doubt that one of them, or the attackers up above, will get us before we reach the center. I suggest we wait for a distraction."

So we squatted and waited for more teams to catch up, and hopefully serve as a decoy for us. But the other teams were either slow to gain, or had the same idea as we did, because we waited for ten minutes and there was still no sign of other competitors.

"Maybe I can be a decoy," I said. "Then you can run to the trophy and win for us."

"No," said Keenan. "I should be the decoy. I can take those paintballs better than you."

I was grateful, but grinned at his protectiveness. "I think I can take a little pain."

He shook his head. "This doesn't feel right. Whoever attacked Lea was part of a plan. I need to protect you."

I thought he was being a little paranoid, but kept that thought to myself. "How? We'll both be running in the open."

He started to strip.

"Hey, hey! What're you doing?" I hurried to cover my eyes.

"Shh. They mustn't know. Don't worry, I have underclothes on."

I felt silly and lowered my hands. "The paintballs will hurt like a trout hook without your uniform on."

"I can handle it. All that matters is my underclothes are thick enough to prevent the paint from touching my skin."

I blistered with confusion. "You really don't have to do this."

Keenan tugged at his uniform top. "We've come this far."

I watched with my mouth open, struggling to find words, as Keenan stripped down to a white long-sleeved smock.

"Now wrap this around your head," he said, handing his uniform top to me. "That should protect you from any hits."

I draped the top over my head and arranged it so the neck-hole was positioned around my face. Keenan helped me tie the dangling long-sleeves around my neck to hold the top in place.

"Now that you're well protected, you can claim the trophy and victory for all of us." He stepped back in just his long-sleeved cotton undershirt and uniform pants, smiling. "Looks like we're ready."

"You sure you want to do this?" I asked.

Keenan grinned, bringing crinkles to his eyes. "You're becoming a nag like Templeton. Now, on three," he said. We stood at the exit in a crouching position. Beads of sweat began to gather at the back of my neck from being swaddled in thick material. "One, two – three."

We darted into the open space at full sprint. All at once, the arena exploded in a clamor of pelting paintballs. I felt a couple explode on my back and winced in pain. My legs kept running like clockwork. The trophy was only a few feet away now. Keenan ran by my side, looking bare with only a thin smock on.

"Keep going!" he yelled.

From the corner of my eye, I saw An Ja and her teammate making a run for it, too. They hurled the paintballs at us, and one whacked my waist. The other soared over Keenan's shoulder.

I willed my legs to speed up. They began to burn. My heart pounded in my swaddled head. From the corner of my eye, I saw a paintball heading towards us.

"Duck!" I cried. I lowered to a crouch and saw Keenan do the same. The paintball splattered somewhere on the floor, and we kept on running.

"If I fall, keep running," said Keenan. The moment he finished his sentence, a purple ball exploded on his right cheek, and he crumpled to the ground.

I gritted my teeth and sprinted on. He'll be all right, they'll have him right up after the game ends.

Almost there. My sides ached from being hit. The soles of my shoes struggled to find grip on the surface slimy with paint. The trophy came nearer - nearer - until finally it was within reach. I took a few more sprints, then jumped at the trophy. Its cold metallic surface stung my cheeks. I fell to the padded ground, hugging the trophy like it was my life.

The victory horn blew, and relief washed through me like a refreshing stream. I wrapped my fingers around the trophy handles as if it would disappear if I wasn't touching it, and got up to my feet. Keenan lay a few feet away, a mix of colors painting his white smock. The purple stain on his cheek glared at me. I squatted by him, pulled my damp head-wrap off and waited. A few feet away, An Ja and her teammate lay unconscious, along with a few other contestants I didn't recognize.

"Just a few minutes, Keenan," I whispered. He looked as if in a deep, restful sleep. My breathing calmed, and I looked up at the cheering crowd and the electronic billboards sporting my face with the word WINNER above it.

I was calm, until Keenan started convulsing like he was touched by a live cable.

Shock paralyzed me for a split second. Then my instincts kicked in. "Help!" I shouted so loudly my voice cracked. "Help, something's not right!"

Cables sprang from the platforms and paramedics came swooping in, clothed in white padded uniforms with "Ellis Medical" stamped in blood red letters on their chest. They brought with them a litany of medical supplies. One medic, a male, pressed his finger against Keenan's wrist to feel his heartbeat. A petite brunette felt his forehead. Her name tag read Analise.

"There is too much paint in his bloodstream. Contestants are not meant to remove their uniforms," Analise said. She spoke as if chiding Keenan, and it was all I could do not to swing my fist at her pouting lips. "Cleansing wipes and shot, now."

They pulled out cloth wipe after wipe from a white box, cut his shirt open and began washing his skin of the offending substances. The wipes attacked my nostrils with stinging antiseptic fumes. Another medic prepped a syringe and injected a clear liquid into his arm.

I watched with tears in my eyes and a hand clasped over my mouth. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Don't worry," said Analise. "Our paints are non-toxic. He's just having an allergic reaction. It will pass."

"Non-toxic?" I cried. "Then why is he seizing and foaming in the mouth?"

Analise held out an arm as if afraid I would attack her. "Calm down, missy. He'll be all right. Achilles won't let any ambassadors come to harm."

A wave of anger seized me. "I'll calm down when he stops convulsing!"

Analise turned back to Keenan and said calmly with her back to me, "There're always the spitfires." Again, I felt the intense need to swing at her, but held myself. She was right; I was being a spitfire. I would feel ashamed if Keenan wasn't flopping like an electrocuted fish out of water in front of me. I took deep breaths as my heart seized with panic.

Finally, after Keenan's torso and arms had been wiped clean, and a few more syringes of clear liquid injected into him, his convulsions eased into mild tremors. In a few stomach-churning minutes, his body relaxed.

Analise stood and smoothed her uniform out. "There. What'd I say? An hour of rest and he'll be good as new."

I prepared a rebuttal, but bit my tongue when Keenan's eyelids fluttered open. I fell to his side and felt his face. It was clammy but of normal temperature.

"You silly boy," I said. "I was so worried. You got too much paint in your system." I bit my lip as I said it; a small part of me had a faint suspicion of foul play. I wouldn't put it past Achilles to bask in the joy of watching the contestants in seizures.

A smile edged across his pale face. "Better me than you. Did we win?"

I was gripped by exasperation. "Yes, we won. Though I think I lost a few hours of my life."

His smile widened. "I didn't think you'd be so worried for me."

That was puzzling. Why would he think that? Before I got a chance to reply, a familiar shrill voice split the air.

"Keenan, my baby!"

Marylea came running towards us from one of the exits. Her face was smudged with orange, green and blue paint. Every inch of her uniform was splattered by mixed colors of paint, like a rainbow had vomited on her.

"I came running as soon as the medics unfroze me," said Marylea, plopping down next to me and cupping Keenan's face. "They popped some nasty pill the size of a gumball into my mouth. Then I saw you convulsing on the screens! Are you feeling all right?"

Keenan nodded. "A little weak, but otherwise I'm fine."

I saw two more familiar faces running towards us. Both were painted a multitude of colors.

"That was mighty brave," said Fabe. "And woohoo! We won!"

"What Fabe meant to say was, thanks for the sacrifice," said Tem. He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Sorry about the hold-up. I tried to catch up but got stuck in the second course. It's a miracle you got out of there - paintballs were everywhere."

"We teamed up with An Ja and her team mate," I said, fighting the urge to jump up and hug him for comfort. The panic from seeing Keenan seize was still crackling and alive in my veins.

"Ah. I saw An Ja and another dude getting revived in the winner's circle." Tem turned to Keenan with a soft smile. I guess Keenan's sacrifice had earned a few points in Tem's book. "So you and Ash get to choose the prizes." He smiled. "You're choosing the spa retreat, right? I could use some relaxation after this."

Fabe punched his arm.

"Okay, guys," said Analise, pressing on the wireless receptor in her ear. "Time to clear the arena. All participants are to report to the starting point."

As we snaked through the arena towards the starting point, passing reviving, groggy participants, we filled Tem and Fabe in on the attack on Marylea.

Tem shook his head. "Did you make enemies?"

Marylea bristled. "I haven't offended no one!"

"It was probably just a prank," said Fabe. "Nothing to worry about."

"Trout," I cursed. "I'm so sick of people trying to get Lea." Before I could continue on my rant, a high-pitched voice called my name. "Ashling Dircourt!"

I turned around to see the grinning face of Wen Xin. Her heart-shaped face was painted green, and her straight black hair was matted with neon orange.

"Congrats on winning the games," she said, squeezing me with both arms. "I missed you on my team this year."

I laughed. "Of course you did. What would you do without your personal meat shield?"

She wrinkled her nose. "It was terrible. I was downed in the first round." She shrugged. "So, who's your new Shaper? Is it this pretty brunette over here?"

Marylea grinned and extended a hand. "Marylea. Arrived a few weeks ago. I've heard my hair is so bright it could burn down a building."

Wen Xin laughed. "Pleased to meet you. Wen Xin. Ash and I go back." Her chocolate eyes swirled with warmth as she looked at me.

By go back, she meant we'd known each other since we could walk. Our parents had been friends since the age of time, and Jin Long was one of our few allies who stuck with us after the Abandonment. Wen Xin was as close to a sister as I got. I would do anything for her, which included taking the blame for one mistake five years ago – one that cost the confidence of my people. I knew it would cost her a lot more than it cost me, and I figured I could always win the Aragonians back. I'd forgotten they were more stubborn than berry stains. But Wen Xin had a reputation to keep up, a Kingdom to rule, parents to please. Until her baby brother became of age - eighteen - and took over, she was the one in charge.

"So what's up with you?" I asked Wen Xin. "I haven't received a letter from you in two weeks."

Wen Xin blinked and shifted her gaze to the distance. "I'm so sorry, Ash. A lot of things have been happening lately." She looked at me with a foreboding gaze. "I – I got engaged."

"What?" I'd never thought her parents would let her marry Shell. I'd always thought they would elope or something. I grabbed her hands. "That's great news! Why didn't you tell me?"

Her hands were cold and limp. She grimaced. "It was an arranged marriage. I'm engaged to Giddy Pig."

My mouth fell. "You can't be."

"Giddy Pig?" asked Marylea.

"Only the Realm's worst playboy," said Tem. "He's probably somewhere in this stadium hitting up any females he can find."

"Tem," I said, shocked at his insensitivity, and turned back to Wen Xin. "Sorry, but – why him?"

"My parents want an alliance with Nintie," she said, shrugging. She pretended it was no big deal, but the strain in her voice and her subdued gaze said otherwise. "How better to get allied than through marriage?"

I bit my lip. She didn't like this marriage any more than I cherished the thought of kissing Achilles' feet. Yet I knew her parents, and how obstinate they were. Nothing would change their mind once they'd made it. It was all a matter of honoring their promise. If you asked me, they should be more careful about the promises they made.

"Have you talked to him about it?" I asked. I wasn't referring to Giddy Pig, and Wen Xin knew it. Her face shrouded with gray.

She shook her head. "We're going to announce it at tonight's dinner."

I felt sick to my stomach. "When's the wedding?"

"After my brother's birthday." Wen Xin's lips curved slightly. "And you get to be my maid-of-honor."

I frowned at her terrible attempt at humor. "That's only months away. And you agreed to this?"

Wen Xin's face tensed up. I'd touched a nerve.

I felt my defenses rise up. "It's - it's a loveless marriage, Wennie. I don't understand. What about Shell –"

"Ashling," she said in a low voice, "You, of all people, should understand putting duty before love."

It was like she'd slapped me across the face. My mind fleeted to Tem, who was standing so close to me our elbows almost touched.

My next instinct was to feel hurt that she'd responded to my concern with anger. Then I noticed something else hidden in her light brown eyes – sadness.

She was hurting, but her duty to her Kingdom came before anything else.

My childhood maid Mariah's words echoed in my head: "Marry a Prince, if not a Chancellor. Strengthen Aragonia's standing."

Would I marry someone for my Kingdom?

Before I could derive an answer, a deep voice called, "Wen Xin, where are you?"

Wen Xin's somber face lit up like her birthday had come early. "That's Shell. I need to go; I'll see you at dinner." She touched my wrist in goodbye, smiled and merged with the crowd.

"Arranged marriages," mused Marylea. "I didn't know they happened here, too."

I stood rooted to the ground as I watched Wen Xin go, feeling like my spirits had been crushed by a ten-ton boulder. Marriage was a topic that was hardly on my mind, and when it was, it was always a dreaded thing. Now it had barreled at me with a vengeance.

"Poor Wennie," I muttered. I thought about the times Wen Xin, Shell and I had galumphed around Jin Long palace, flying dragon kites with trailing tails, and sneaking bread to the koi in the large lake in the castle grounds. Those days had happened only a few years back, yet they seemed a century away.

Poor Shell. It was obvious to anyone in their presence that he was more than a bodyguard. Even a blind person could feel the tension between them. So what did it say about her parents who betrothed her to the Realm playboy?

I snuck a glance at Tem, who stood still next to me. He noticed my gaze and asked, "Coin for your thoughts?"

I felt a shiver and shook my head. "Save your coin. C'mon, we need to collect our prize."

Fabe gave a squawk of excitement like a parrot presented with a buttered cracker.

The prize presentation was thrown with loud fanfare. Ellisians loved good entertainment, and entertainment involving foreigners pelted with paintballs was even more exciting. We mounted the podium as a team in our glorious splattered uniforms. Keenan, who was back to his non-seizing self again, joined us. Marylea gave Keenan a smooch on the lips, took his hand and pumped it in the air. We waved, gold medals around our necks. Fabe hugged his gift certificate for the cooking workshop like it was his lifeline.

"I love Ellis!" Fabe bellowed, waving to the cheering crowd.

Next to me, Tem whispered through gritted teeth, "Say that again and I'm shredding your certificate into nano-sized particles."

I laughed. At least someone was having fun.