I haven’t had enough time to soak in my solar vitamins so I figure I’d better try to eat a decent meal. I choose some sea apples, one of the crab cakes and a mug of icy mead. Blane shovels on a portion of just about everything.
By the time we return to the table, three kids are sitting at the chairs we didn’t reserve. The girl has stringy red hair, one of her guy friends has glasses, and the other boy has shoulder length brown hair and a tan jacket with coral buttons. They eye us warily.
I grant them a smile, no need to start out with a feud. “Where are you all from?” I ask the one girl.
“Vegas Central High. You?”
“From The Greening.”
Her eyes widen. “Whoa, I’ve heard it’s really desolate out in Skull’s Wrath.”
“More space to invent big contest pieces,” Blane retorts.
“I guess so.” She returns to the rice dish she calls seafood paella.
“Just look at those rich kids from Baronland South,” scoffs her friend in glasses. They stare at the table of rowdy kids that we were just talking about.
“As if they need the prize!” the longhaired guy huffs.
Radius snickers. “Our feelings exactly.”
“But you guys have it good here in Vegas,” Bea notes.
“We don’t get feasts like this every day.” The spectacled guy wolfs down his fish.
“Who’s paying?” Blane asks. “Does Axiom cover this?”
The longhaired guy shrugs. “I think it’s a consortium, underwriters or whatever.”
“Like who?” I ask.
“Rich business tycoons,” replies the red haired girl between mouthfuls of cake.
“Are there a lot of rich business folk in Vegas-by-the-Sea?” asks Blane.
The longhaired guy nods. “More and more. It’s becoming a boomtown.”
“Do they have a say in the voting?” I ask him.
“Probably.” The longhaired guy raises his mug. “Hey, may the best person win.”
“I second that,” Blane exclaims.
We end up clinking glasses, all toasting each other. The red-haired girl is Haddy, the longhaired boy is Tib and his friend wearing glasses is Van. People in Vegas-by-the-Sea might be almost as well off as the ones from Baronland South but they’re super-friendly, and it makes me want to move here even more.
Bea, Radius, Blane and I waddle out of Crab House Delights like stuffed lobsters punch drunk on mead. Axiom’s white limo glider ferries us to the Skye Ride at the wharf. Stepping onto the seaside dock, I’m aware that I’m stepping into my longtime dream: to finally see the sea dazzle with its infinite blues. Breathing in its marine scent, I picture starfish, octopi and waving clusters of anemones below—a paradise of creatures that I’ve only read about in old books.
The sun is setting. Gold and pink crescents of sky reflect blithely on the ever-moving waves. The shimmering curves make their way out to the horizon until they disappear beyond it.
“Ocean!” I call out, lifting my arms in joy.
“It’s beautiful!” Bea calls out behind us.
“So are you,” I hear Radius tell her.
Blane steps up to me. “It’s so vast.” A troubled expression casts a shadow over his face.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just …”
“Thinking of your family?”
He gazes over at me, pain evident in his hazel eyes. “Reminds me of how the waves took them. The tsunami. Oh, god, Ruby.”
“It’s over, it’s safe now.” I slide my arm around his waist. I don’t need to wait for him to take the lead. He needs someone to care about him, and I do.
Our Skye Ride whooshes down for us. It’s a white hovercraft with a cab just big enough for two and a rounded, high-arching top. This cab is attached to a great looped track in the sky, as the other cabs are. The ride master opens the door and, with another swipe of his arm, invites us in. “Belt up,” he advises.
Blane helps me in and I arrange my red dress under me and cinch the seatbelt. Suddenly, I’m tingling with anticipation and fear, and my heart is rapping hard against my ribs.
We’re borne up, soundlessly and more grandly than in any mere glider. We soar so high that the wharf and the people walking on it look like tiny beetles. Turning around, I see Radius and Bea snuggling in the hovercraft behind us. We wave.
Higher and higher. Delicious songs play inside my head, like the thrumming of the Fireseed. Only it’s the humming of my own heart, filled with joy and lightness. Or is it? I hear it again, exactly like the Fireseed: pretty one, pretty one, pretty one.
Ocean, ocean, ocean!
How is that even possible, all the way out here on the coast? We’re hundreds of miles from Skull’s Wrath. Can the Fireseed sense me here, flying above the sea? How could the message be as strong as it would be if we were back at school? There are no sure answers.