y heart pounded with trepidation at the sight of Arian. I hadn’t laid eyes on the intimidating antagonist since Alderon. Both my real life and nocturnal visions had been free of his presence since returning to school. But all good things had to come to an end.

I saw him at the center of my dreamscape, proud and strong as ever. He was taller than I remembered, with black eyes and equally dark hair, a hard chin, and a scar on the side of his face that I’d put there. He and a small man in a gray hood were in a room with stone walls and navy curtains. An oak table stood between them with maps spread across it.

“They got away, my lord,” the small man said to him meekly. “They lost the citadel knights in the Forest of Mists. The Gwenivere Brigade helped them.”

“I know that, you dolt,” Arian responded. “What I don’t know is how they managed to align themselves with the Brigade so quickly. Rampart should’ve been able to keep them here.” Arian pounded the table in annoyance. The force of his strike was so strong I thought it might split the wood in half.

“Why is it so hard for people to hold on to one princess?” Arian scowled.

“In fairness, sir, hasn’t she escaped you several times?”

Arian looked like he might split the man in half. I think the man knew it too, because he took a step back.

Arian directed his gaze to the maps in front of him. “As much as it would please me to slit her throat myself, I cannot waste time hunting Crisanta Knight right now. Mauvrey and I have to get our own Knight to the isle. I know Rampart already put a bounty on her head, but use the Mark Twos to contact every hunter we’ve employed and make them aware of where the princess and her friends are headed. With enough of them searching for her, there is no chance she will make it through the Passage Perelous alive.”

“With respect, my lord,” the man interceded, “as proven by the events in the citadel, the girl’s allies make it more difficult. Their presence greatly reduces her vulnerability.”

“Then remove them from the playing field.”

Arian mulled over a thought. An idea shone in his irises and he readdressed his underling.

“Silva In Motu,” he said. “Tell the hunters to be waiting for her there. Then let’s see how strong Crisanta Knight is when her precious friends aren’t around to protect her.”

I woke from the dream when the bird that SJ employed to act as our alarm clock began its high-pitched song.

For once, Blue was the first person out of bed. On most school days we had to work as a team to get her up. And ordinarily she refused to rise before noon on weekends. Today, though, she couldn’t get ready fast enough.

I didn’t blame her. It was Sunday. The Twenty-Three Skidd tryout results were being posted this morning. She and I rapidly got dressed. I barely had a chance to tie up the laces on my boots before she grabbed my arm and yanked me out the door.

SJ didn’t even get up. She waved our alarm bird away, rolled over in bed, and didn’t wish us any kind of luck on our way out. The bird was hurt that she’d disregarded him. And so was I.

Blue didn’t notice, though. She was too excited. We raced down the hall to the staircase. There were others girls descending the fuchsia carpeted steps. By the time we got to the second floor there was a mass of slow-moving students in front of us. Thinking quickly, Blue heaved herself onto the smooth silver bannister and pushed off. I followed, and we slid down the rest of the way—the speed of the winding descent making our hair flap.

We reached the bottom and landed on the checkered tile of the ground floor like it was no big deal. Blue grasped my wrist and pulled me forward without another second lost.

“Move out the way!” she said as she shoved through the crowd gathered in the foyer.

The tryout results were posted on the bulletin board that usually held memos about school clubs and special events. The area around the board was packed. Today may have been a Sunday, but girls of all ages had woken up early to take a gander at the outcome. There were several dozen of us who’d tried out, and countless more were curious about the turnout. Realm-wide, Twenty-Three Skidd was an all-boys sport. For even one of us to make a team would be an incredible win for our gender.

“Can you see anything?” I asked as we got closer.

“Um . . .” Blue jumped up and down. “Not yet.”

She and I continued to push our way forward. A task, it seemed, that may have been more difficult than fighting fire-breathing chipmunks.

I began to feel nervous as we edged closer to the board. Lady Agnue’s and Lord Channing’s had classes that went from fifth grade to senior year of high school, and the majority of the student body (maybe 80%) was made up of common female protagonists like Blue and common male heroes like Daniel. So many of those common protagonists had tried out last week and there were only eight spots available. The odds were not in our favor. It was highly unlikely that—

“Holy cow!” Blue exclaimed, moving to the front of the throng.

I was right beside her. I stared at the sheet and blinked. My name and Blue’s name were both written on the roster. We’d made it onto two separate teams, but we’d made it nonetheless.

“We did it!” Blue shouted.

It felt like my heart did a backflip. A huge grin spread across my face. Blue and I hugged and jumped with excitement. This was the greatest news! I was so happy I could hardly stand it.

The two of us made our way back through the crowd and headed toward the banquet hall. “I can’t believe we both made it,” I said as I passed her a plate in the buffet line.

“I can,” she replied. “We were both awesome at tryouts.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just . . . things aren’t usually that easy.”

“Oh, calm yourself, Miss Gloom and Doom.” Blue rolled her eyes as she began to help herself to breakfast. “I swear, you almost die four or five times and suddenly it’s like you’ve forgotten what it feels like to have things go your way. Trust me, girl; there’s no need to panic. Sometimes this is real life.”

“You’re right,” I said, letting myself feel happy again. I raised my eyebrows when I noticed that Blue had gone to town on the waffle station. Her plate now held three waffles, a pile of whipped cream the size of a sandcastle, and an assortment of syrups that ran over the whole tower like an overflowing volcano.

“What?” Blue said in response to my shocked expression. “We’re on the team now. I have to carbo load.”

I shrugged and helped myself to a monstrous plate of waffles as well.

Blue and I took our plates and sat down at our favorite table. More protagonists were starting to pour into the banquet hall now. A number of them were coming in with melancholy expressions on their faces from not making a team. However, a select few protagonists entered the banquet hall beaming.

Along with Blue and me, three other Lady Agnue’s students had made the cut—Girtha, Jacqueline Day Ripley (who was one year our senior), and Divya Patel (who was four years our junior). They strutted into the banquet hall triumphantly. Girtha gave me a smile and a nod from across the room. I returned the gesture. Jacqueline and Divya did the same.

I didn’t know either of these girls well since we were not in the same year, but I assumed we’d get to know each other in the future. I looked forward to it, even if we would be on competing teams.

“It’s really cool that five girls made it onto the teams and only three boys got chosen,” I commented as I dug into my waffles. “I wonder if any of the guys at Lord Channing’s are upset about the way things turned out.”

“Who cares.” Blue shrugged. “Those haters can suck it. The five of us were clearly better, despite all their hero training. We’ll have to keep proving ourselves, though. Even if the five of us are on different teams, we need to work together to show the boys, and the teachers, that we are just as capable and shouldn’t be underestimated.”

I nodded in agreement. Blue was right; we did share that common goal in spite of being on separate teams.

Girtha and Divya had both made it onto the team known as the Lyons; that was Chance Darling’s team. Jacqueline obtained the only open spot on the Jacklebees. A prince at Lord Channing’s named Andrew secured a slot on the Tenants. Meanwhile, Blue and a boy called Christopher had gotten the two available positions on Jason’s team—the Crusaders.

Making Jason’s team was clearly filling her with more elation than she wanted to let on, but there was no denying the joy dancing in her eyes.

I had claimed the seventh available spot and had ended up on a team known as the Seven Suns. I had made this team alongside the final newly selected Twenty-Three Skidd player for the season—Daniel.

Of course.

He and I could just not shake each other. The universe kept forcing us together no matter how much we both would have preferred otherwise.

I was annoyed and also anxious about what this might mean for our performance. Daniel had really hurt me when he threw my trust back in my face. And while we may have decided that we could be casual friends, I didn’t know if I could get over this betrayal enough for us to work on a team like we had before. Being selected together led me to believe that the captains of the Seven Suns saw our dynamic teamwork in action during the tryouts and thought we’d make a great duo. But now . . . I didn’t know.

“You excited to be on the same team as Daniel?” Blue asked in between forkfuls.

“Excited isn’t the word,” I responded. “A better one would probably be amused. I’m sure you’re over the moon about your team assignment though.”

Blue glanced down at her waffles—trying to bury her lack of a poker face—but I saw her blush the same shade of raspberry as the syrup on her plate.

“I don’t think he sees me that way,” she eventually said. “We’re buds, but he didn’t put me on his team for that reason. If he had, he would’ve given the other spot on the Crusaders to either you or Daniel, not that Christopher kid. Which means that Jason actually believes in me as a player. Which also means I can’t let him down. We’re the first girls to ever play on Twenty-Three Skidd teams, Crisa. The captains took a huge risk in picking us. I have to focus and deliver. I won’t let Jason’s reputation get hurt because of me.”

I nodded and went on eating my waffles, stifling the horrible urge to tell her that it wasn’t Jason’s reputation she had to worry about.

I looked up and saw SJ had come into the banquet hall . . . with Jade. The two had their heads together and were talking like old friends. SJ’s eyes caught mine for a split second before she and Jade continued toward the waffle station.

“What’s that about?” I asked, tilting my chin in their direction.

Blue glanced over her shoulder then shrugged. “SJ’s been hanging out with Jade recently.”

That caught my attention. I lowered my fork despite the fact that it was already loaded with waffles. “Why?”

“I think SJ felt sorry for her. Gossip runs fast and opinions change quickly around here, and you, Miss Popular, caused a shift. Since you started your late-night sparring sessions with Girtha, you’ve been treating her differently. You’re nicer to her in classes and stuff; you even let her sit with us for dinner a couple times this week. I was not a fan, but I digress. The point is that the other girls have noticed. Between you accepting her and her awesome performance in the Twenty-Three Skidd tryouts, she’s started to make new friends. That left Jade even more alone than before, and SJ sort of came to the rescue. The two of them have been spending their free time together lately—studying in the library, riding horses out in the practice fields, potions lab stuff. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

I haven’t noticed because SJ and I have been so adamantly avoiding each other, I thought.

“I spend my free time in my room practicing magic with Liza,” I responded curtly.

Blue shrugged again. Her non-committal gesture was annoying me. I lifted the waffle-laden fork to my mouth.

“You don’t like Girtha or Jade,” I reminded her around a mouthful. “At least with Girtha we have Twenty-Three Skidd in common, and lately she’s given me reason to think she’s coming around. Hence the trial run invite to sit with us the other day. But Jade’s the worst and has made no effort to change. You’re not at all weirded out by SJ latching onto her?”

“Maybe she needs it,” Blue said, not noticing my irritation.

“Who? SJ or Jade?”

“Both of them. Jade needs a friend and a good role model and SJ . . .” Blue frowned like the matter gave her a slight headache. “Well, maybe she needs the attention. Jade is so grateful to finally have someone be nice to her that she treats SJ like she’s queen of awesomeness.”

I watched SJ and Jade move away from the waffle station and start to make their way toward us. I sighed and conceded to try and be a bigger person. I had let Girtha sit with us the other night, after all. If SJ wanted to bring in someone new I needed to deal with that. “I guess we should invite them to sit with us,” I conceded.

Maybe this will actually be a nice change of pace, I thought to myself as they headed over. Our meals together since the fight had been awkward. That was part of the reason why I’d let Girtha join us a couple times. SJ barely talked anymore. Blue made up for it—girl loved to gab—but it was hardly the same. Perhaps Jade’s enthusiasm would bridge the silence and we could move forward.

I gave SJ a wave to signal her over. She clearly saw me but changed course. She and Jade headed to a table where Marie Sinclaire and Lili Jane Watson were seated.

“Jade is mad at you,” Blue said, seeing my stunned expression. “She kind of blames you for Girtha branching out and outgrowing her. It’s no big deal.”

I put my fork down altogether. “It’s a huge deal,” I asserted. “You’re saying Jade blames me for costing her one of her best friends. And Lili already hates my guts because of the whole jealousy over Chance thing. Don’t you think it’s bad for our friendship if SJ is connecting with people who don’t like me?”

“What’s bad for our friendship is SJ having an identity crisis,” Blue said. “She’s going through some stuff right now, Crisa. And while it is totally not your fault, lately you’ve been bringing it out in her. Maybe she needs some space to get her head on straight. If she has to make some new friends to get a little extra self-worth, it’s not the end of the world. She’ll come back to us when she’s ready.”

I stared at my friend. I couldn’t believe a few minutes ago I had been on figurative Cloud Nine with the most wonderful news ever, and now I was consumed with twisted, pained emotions about SJ.

Blue was smart, and she was observant. But while she had noticed the tension between SJ and me, she wasn’t fully aware of the extent I was bringing out SJ’s insecurities or the degree to which SJ hated me for it. Without understanding that, how could she get how much it hurt me to see SJ intentionally befriending people who didn’t like me and replacing us with new friends because it was easier than looking me in the eye?

After a moment of solemn reflection, a thought occurred to me. “Blue, doesn’t SJ’s behavior bother you?”

Blue furrowed her eyebrows then sighed. “Crisa, obviously it makes me sad to see SJ like this, but I don’t blame her for it. The moment we found out she didn’t have a protagonist book, I think you and I both knew it was a ticking time bomb. The foundation on which she built her identity was shattered. Now she has to rebuild. I am not going to side with either of you in this tiff you have going—not because I don’t care, but because life’s too short. You of all people should know that. I have a best friend with a prophecy and magic that people are trying to kill her for, a crush on one of my other best friends that’s making me dizzy, involvement in an ongoing plot with antagonists and the fate of several realms, schoolwork, and my own prophecy to worry about. You have way more than that. So I think we should avoid any extra drama when we can and enjoy the victories the universe gives us.”

Blue grabbed her glass of orange juice “We made Twenty-Three Skidd teams today, Crisa. In a sea of shadows, it’s a bright spot. How about we let it keep us above water for a little while before bigger things pull us back under?”

She raised her glass of juice high in a toast and eyed me expectantly. I hesitated at first, glancing over at SJ, but then picked up my glass and took a long, deep breath.

“Okay,” I said.

We clinked glasses. Blue took an easy swig. Mine was a bit harder, but I swallowed down my gulp along with my regrets.