Authors: Kirsten Boie
I
t wasn’t until the afternoon light
began to give way to the soft gold glow of evening that Liron turned down the narrow, sandy track that led to the meeting place. Potholes made it difficult to drive and slowed his progress. She was standing in the shadow of the trees, on the edge of a little clearing, waiting for him.
“Nahira,” said Liron.
She stepped out from under the branches. “You’re later than I expected,” she said.
He closed the car door. It was so old that it didn’t have an electronic lock. “I thought it would be too dangerous to call you,” he said. “I was sure you’d wait.”
Nahira scanned the road down which he had driven. “No one followed you?” she asked. “There are soldiers all over the place — they’ve been here ever since this morning.”
Liron shook his head. They listened for a moment. Apart from the wind rustling the leaves on the trees, there was no movement.
“Lorok found it,” said Nahira. “I didn’t want to meet you there, just in case someone …” She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “It’s what we’d suspected for a long time. All those attacks and shortages are just part of the buildup! They’re going to take over the government by force!”
She looks exhausted
, thought Liron.
She’s been through a lot in the last few years.
“You need to figure out exactly when and how you’re going to make it public, Liron,” she urged. “The news could change everything. Once the people of the south realize they’ve been betrayed —”
Liron nodded. “I know,” he said. “Incidentally, that was not a good time when you called yesterday. I just hope no one noticed anything.”
Nahira laughed. “Who’s Carlson?” she asked. “I’m sure you didn’t expect me to understand all your talk about rain on your drive home. But obviously you understood what I was saying, or you wouldn’t have come.”
She laughed again, but it was not a humorous laugh. She had long since ceased to be the Nahira he used to know. The years of fighting alongside the rebels had made her hard and bitter.
We each chose our own path then
, thought Liron. Norlin had left Nahira in order to marry the king’s sister, and then as regent he’d betrayed his own country. Liron aligned with the king on the difficult road to reform. Nahira joined the rebels, and eventually became their notorious leader. Not everything she’d done was good, Liron realized, but she always avoided violence. And without Nahira and her men, the king would never have been rescued last year, and Scandia would be a far different place.
“I was talking to von Thunberg and Petterson when you called,” said Liron. “Nahira, I think your suspicions are right: One of them is working for the other side. It keeps on happening: A small group of us discuss our plans, and then just a short while afterward …”
“Yes?” asked Nahira.
“… a short while afterward, the rebels attack. Just yesterday the king was set to make a televised speech, and right before he could deliver it, they blew up the electricity pylons, preventing the broadcast.”
“You mean one of them is working with
us
?” asked Nahira. “You think
we
blew up the pylons?”
Liron could hear the anger in her voice. He shook his head.
“Of course not!” he said. “Don’t misunderstand me. Every time there’s an attack, it’s blamed on the rebels, but other people are the ones who benefit from it.”
“And you think von Thunberg or Petterson might be among those other people?” said Nahira. “Sometimes everything seems so hopeless. If things go on like this, the people who keep saying nothing will change without violence are going to have a field day, don’t you think? Liron, the north mustn’t lose hope! Otherwise, it really will be my people launching the attacks. If their only option is violence, I won’t be able to stop them.”
Liron could see the anxiety in her eyes. “I can’t hold them back forever,” she said. “Or keep promising them a golden future that the north may never see. The reforms must be introduced more quickly — people have got to feel the changes for themselves, or there’ll be more bombings.” She stepped toward him. “Anyway, I’ve got something to show you. Once this is out in the open, once you’ve shown the press and it’s on every television screen in every living room in the country, everything could change. When southerners see it isn’t the government or the rebels behind all this chaos, then public opinion will shift. It has to.”
“I just don’t know anymore whose side the media is on,” murmured Liron. “Good God, Nahira, how naïve we were last summer! Did we really think everything was going to be all right?”
Nahira walked toward the passenger’s side of the car. Liron went back to the driver’s door. What happened next was so sudden, there was no time to run.
Lights flashed, and out of the darkness from behind the trees came a line of men in black, guns blazing. Bullets smashed past them into the car, shattering the windows and piercing the frame.
Poor Carlson
, thought Liron,
now you won’t be able to wait till you can afford your new car
— and he was shocked that such a stupid thought should be going through his head at such a moment. Then someone pulled him to the ground, twisted his arm behind his back, bound his hands together, and placed a hobnailed boot on his neck.
With his cheek pressed against the pine needles on the ground, Liron was able to see under the car. Nahira was running. Bullets ripped into the bark of the trees on the other side of the clearing, splintering the wood. But there was no cry.
Maybe she had escaped.
“No way!” said a voice that Jenna was sure she knew. “Jenna, it’s you! Sorry!”
The arm released her and she was able to breathe again.
“Petterson Junior!” she cried, with a mixture of relief, anger, and disgust. Of all people!
“You can call me Perry,” he said, holding out the hand with which he had just been attempting to throttle her. “Hi, Jenna.”
Jenna stared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” said Perry. “I ran away. In a laundry basket.”
“A laundry basket?” echoed Jenna. She noted with some relief that suddenly the house was no longer so scary. The dust danced in the sunlight over the polished table, and the ragged patchwork carpet would only need a good shake. This could be a real home.
Perry nodded. “What about you?” he asked. “I’ll bet the security guards are more concerned with finding you than with finding me!”
Jenna sneezed. “I pretended to be a waitress,” she said, pointing to her dress. Last night’s downpour had turned it into a rag. “I snuck out with the caterers.”
“Awesome. And they’re always bragging about how ‘impenetrable’ their security is! ‘Absolutely impenetrable!’” Perry scoffed. “But anyone with half a brain …”
Jenna was only half-listening to him. She had wandered off into the next room, which contained the beds where presumably the chained-up captives — her mother and her uncle Magnus — had slept last year. A handcuff was still dangling from one of the bedposts.
“We’ll put one bed in the next room,” said Jenna. “I’ll sleep in the living room.”
For obvious reasons!
she thought.
“I’ll have to go outside,” said Perry, “until this place is clean. I can’t stop sneezing. Allergies. Come with me.”
“And I’ll start sneezing if I go outside. But OK, I’m coming.” Jenna wiped her nose.
Typical
, she thought.
Something’s always wrong with that boy. But I guess I’d better start looking for his good side. Malena must see something in him!
There were bumblebees buzzing over the wild roses, and butterflies fluttering around the lilacs. Jenna and Perry walked a few feet along the beach till they reached the foot of the jagged cliffs, where at this time of the year wild sweet peas covered the rocks. Among the round washed pebbles, which crunched and rattled under their feet, stood a three-foot-high granite block. Jenna climbed onto the top. “Nice view!” she said.
“Can you see Scandinavia?” asked Perry, and sat down beside her. “Whoa, you can — almost as far as the North Pole!”
“You’re not serious, right?” said Jenna. It suddenly felt as if she was on a summer outing to the beach, just like the old days, when her life had been nice and ordinary, the way it should be. A surprising thought struck her and she glanced sideways at Perry. It was almost like being out with Bea. “Why did you run away?”
“Two words: military school,” Perry said bluntly.
Jenna wondered how he could be so laid-back about his escape. Then she remembered the scene in the summerhouse. She swallowed hard. She knew how strong you could be if you felt loved. For a few fleeting minutes yesterday, she had felt the same.
“What about Malena?” she asked hesitantly.
Perry stared at her. “How do you know?” he asked. And he actually blushed.
Jenna shrugged her shoulders. “Yesterday, in the summerhouse. I saw you. Just by chance.”
For a second, Perry looked as if he was going to explode, but then he just nodded. “I told her everything,” he said. “She understands why I won’t go to the academy. Why I
can’t
go.” He looked her straight in the eye. “I’m no soldier.”
“She likes you, doesn’t she?” said Jenna.
Perry said nothing for a moment. “Is that crazy?” he finally asked. “I mean, a girl like Malena and a guy like …”
“No!” Jenna interjected. “Looks aren’t the most important thing!” Then she realized what she’d said. “Not that you’re
bad
-looking …”
Perry laughed. “I’m pretty realistic about myself, thanks!” he said. “But you know what’s really crazy? If I hadn’t already been sure yesterday that I was going to run away, I never would have had the courage to tell her … and if Malena hadn’t told me how
she
felt, I don’t think I would have had the courage to run away! How messed up is that?”
Jenna nodded.
You need a lot of courage to escape from under the nose of the Secret Service
, she thought.
And whether you’re brave because you’re happy, like Perry, or desperate, like me, doesn’t make any difference.
“And? What’s your story?” asked Perry.
Jenna looked out across the water. The gulls were gliding above the waves almost without moving their wings. How did they know exactly where the air would carry them? “Oh, all sorts of things,” she murmured. There was no way she was going to confess about Jonas, or about Jonas and Ylva. “I just don’t fit in. This princess thing. I always screw it up.”
“That’s bull!” said Perry, and she was surprised at how forceful he sounded. “They
want
you to get everything wrong, Jenna. It’s not your fault! The papers could say the exact opposite about you if they wanted to. But there’s been a change in people’s attitudes, and you’re the one who has to pay the price.” He looked at her. “They’re just using you so that they can get at the whole royal family …”
“I know,” said Jenna.
“… so they can attack the government and the reforms …”
“I know!” cried Jenna. “I know all that! But knowing it doesn’t make it any better! Do you think it helps to know it’s not personal when you see hideous photos of yourself plastered across every single paper and all over the Internet? When the whole class is making fun of you? When even the youngest girls in the school start laughing the moment you walk into the cafeteria?” Her voice was shrill now.
“Sorry,” Perry mumbled. “I wasn’t thinking.”
They sat there for a while without talking. Occasionally the shriek of a gull pierced the steady splashing of the waves, and a woodpecker hammered away in the pine forest behind them.
“Now what?” Perry asked eventually. “Before you arrived, I was going to try to make a fishing rod. There are blueberries, too. I don’t know if you can hear my stomach, but I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”
Yesterday.
Jenna took a deep breath.
Don’t think about it anymore. Don’t think about anything.
Now that he’d pointed it out, she realized Perry’s stomach was indeed rumbling like a miniature thunderstorm. “Wow,” she said. “Malena should hear that. Hot. Not!” But then she grew serious again. “I don’t think you’ll catch much with a homemade fishing rod. And blueberries, well …” She sighed. “But the town’s quite a long way away, and by the time we get there, the shops will be closed.”
“Not a problem,” said Perry, and Jenna could hear the pride in his voice. “I’ve got a moped. It’s back there in the bushes.”
“A moped?” asked Jenna.
“I have to watch it with the gas. No money to buy any more. So I guess there’s not much point in going into town, anyway. Or do you think the supermarket would put it on credit if you told them you were a princess? Considering the political climate, unlikely! And the way you look, nobody would believe you.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious — for a guy who hangs out in laundry bins,” said Jenna. It really was a little bit like being with Bea. Who’d of thunk it? Substitute besties with Petterson Junior. “Would a princess run away without any money?” She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the envelope. “My wages,” she announced. “Compensation for having endured that nightmare party.”