Chapter 21

C HAPTER 21

Theo and I sprint in the direction of the scream. As we run, I effortlessly imagine a hundred terrible things that could have gone wrong, most of them involving Victoria. I have no idea how much time we have before she gets seriously sick, but judging by the tense expression on Theo's face, I think the answer is: not a lot.

Comet's bark echoes through the trees, leading us in the right direction. When we finally stumble upon the group, they're gathered on the banks of a trickling stream. Henry is drenched all the way to the ends of his curls, laughing and hollering as Comet splashes circles around him. Something in my brain clicks, and I recognize the screech from before as a happy one. My pulse slows.

Victoria is gulping water straight out of her cupped hands, and Brooke is sitting with her arms around her legs watching Comet and Henry splash around.

"Welcome back," Victoria says when she sees us.

I lean against a tree to catch my breath. "I thought you were dead."

"That's dramatic."

"What were you two doing?" Henry's insinuation is not subtle.

"None of your business," Theo responds. "Is everyone okay? We shouldn't split up again."

" We didn't split up. You and Wren disappeared," Brooke says. "We stopped here to give you a chance to catch up. It's not our fault you two can't stop making doe eyes at each other long enough to—"

"Are those berries?" Theo cuts her off. He points vaguely in the distance and leapfrogs over a fallen tree to get the hell out of this conversation. At the thought of food, my mouth fills with saliva and my hunger pangs triple. If he's lying to avoid Brooke, I don't blame him, but I will kill him for giving me false hope.

"Verdict?" I call after a minute. My legs are about to fall off. No food, no moving.

Theo returns to the group and displays a rough, purplish fruit in his hand. "This time you may direct your gratitude to me," he says, grinning smugly at his brother.

"What is it?" Victoria asks.

"We're about to find out." Theo lifts the fruit to his mouth.

"Wait!" Henry slaps the fruit out of his brother's hand and catches it with his free one. He holds it up for inspection. "Let me have the first honors. Wouldn't want this to kill you, Your Majesty." He winks, and I genuinely can't tell if he's joking or not.

Brooke surveys this exchange with a critical eye. I've been on the receiving end of that expression too many times in my life to not be terrified of it. Henry's about to find himself in the middle of a Brooke Wheeler cross-examination. "Why would you eat it first?"

"We don't know what this is. It looks safe, but it might not be," Henry says.

"Okay. And?"

"If I don't get sick, Theo can eat it."

Brooke narrows her eyes, zeroing in on her target. "So, you're doing this to protect Theo, specifically. "

Theo winces, but Henry just smiles. "Have you heard of the phrase ‘the heir and the spare'?"

"If we're being technical, you're now the heir, and I'm the spare," Victoria says. "I should eat it first."

"So, because he was born first, you're going to taste all of his food in case of poisoning? That can't be a real thing."

"No. At home, we pay someone to be the poison tester," Victoria says with a dramatic eye roll.

"I'll eat it," Theo protests.

"No, I will," Henry says.

"And if you die ?" Brooke asks.

Henry tips his head to Brooke. "It's in the name of protecting the Crown."

Theo groans loudly.

"I have loads of food allergies, so that's how you know I'm willing to risk it all for you, brother." Henry winks.

"Oh, bollocks; pineapple gives you an itchy tongue. You're not risking anything," Victoria says.

"Explain to me why his life is more important than yours," Brooke says to Henry.

"Brooke, come on," I say. If she'd seen Theo's expression last night when this exact topic came up with Reggie, she'd realize how unnecessary this little lecture is. "That thing's not going to kill anyone. It's probably just a passion fruit."

"That's not the point!"

I snatch the fruit from Henry's hand and bite it open. A tangy, sour flavor floods my senses. I suck out the yellow, pulpy insides and I don't drop dead or get violently ill. Crisis averted.

I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. "Passion fruit."

"How egalitarian of you," Theo deadpans.

"You know what I always say, everyone deserves equal rights to die by poisonous tropical fruit."

Henry salutes me. "Thank you for saving me from a potentially itchy tongue."

I roll my eyes. "I only did it so my sister wouldn't murder you."

"Stop flirting with my sister and get us more fruit," Brooke says. Theo and Henry look at her, and then me, and then each other. Theo stalks into the trees, his brother hot on his heels.

A few minutes later Theo drops a large handful of passion fruit into my lap before settling next to Comet and me, and I make a silent wish that Reggie, Winston, and Naomi have also been able to find something to eat. Henry moves to sit with us but Theo glares at his brother until he joins Victoria several paces away.

"I'm sorry about Brooke. She can be intense," I whisper to Theo.

He shrugs. "I don't disagree with her on principle."

"She doesn't, like, want you to be poisoned. You know that, right?"

One half of his mouth hitches up. "I understand. She wants me to have an equal chance of being poisoned when we're playing Mystery Fruit Russian roulette."

"Exactly."

We grin stupidly at each other, and for a few perfect seconds I forget about all our problems. "Do you think your brother is flirting with me?" I tease.

Theo takes a bite of passion fruit. "Yes."

"Does that bother you?"

He slants me an exasperated look. "Yes."

I smother a smile and for a fraction of a second I can picture it: Theo and me doing this every day. The banter, the flirting, the being-on-the-same-continent. In the same palace. I close my eyes and let myself sink into the fantasy, and for the first time in months, my future shimmers with exciting possibility. I look down and am startled to discover that in my daydream, I'm wearing a gown.

I shake my head and snap back to the present.

Across from us, Victoria rolls an uneaten passion fruit between her hands before dropping it on the untouched pile at her feet. I watch her out of the corner of my eye for a while and am surprised that she's not eating. Instead, she continually dips her hands to the stream to gulp more water from them. She drinks so much that it's no shock when she grabs her stomach like she's in pain. My eyebrows pinch in worry, but she glares at me and stalks off by herself into the woods. I glance at Theo, wondering what he'd make of this.

"Will the fruit help your sister?"

"Maybe? I don't know. She needs to eat, but not too much sugar…" He exhales heavily. "What she really needs is her insulin. If she doesn't get it, she could become hyperglycemic, which could lead to diabetic ketoacidosis."

"What would that look like?"

His eyes stray to the spot in the trees where she disappeared. "She'll get tired. Blurred vision. Increased thirst. Nausea. Her breath might smell weirdly fruity. And then…" He trails off again, the worst-case scenario left hanging in the air like a fog.

I try to swallow my terror, but Theo's not done talking.

"I really hoped I'd be able to find her purse in the water. There was so much other stuff floating around, I thought there was a chance."

My head snaps up. "Her purse?"

"Yeah. It had her insulin in it. That's why she asked us to look for it."

Passion fruit churns in my stomach as I replay the crash in my head.

The backpack strap around my ankle, pulling me under. Victoria asking for her black Prada bag. Thinking she was just being spoiled. Kicking toward shore. Looping Victoria's purse around my body. Letting it sink anyway because she was rude to me.

The truth covers me like a wave, until I'm drowning in it.

This is my fault. Victoria's in danger because of me.

We finish eating and continue toward the center of the island. The evergreen trees start to thin, the ground sloping upward at the base of the volcano. I stay at the back of the group, my eyes fixed on Victoria like a hawk, my thoughts bouncing between her and Naomi back at camp, wishing I could push us faster, worrying whether Victoria will be able to keep up, and stressing over whether I should tell Theo about Victoria's symptoms. Every time he tries to talk to me, I feel worse. I can't even look at him without thinking about Victoria gulping that water like she couldn't get enough.

I spend the next hour alternating between fantasies of being rescued and making myself sick with worry that we'll never be found. I count the steps we take up the slope of this Portuguese volcano, wondering what fate has waiting for us on the other side.

When I can't stand the sound of my own thoughts for one more exhausted step, I sidle next to Victoria and Comet. I hold her back until the rest of the group has passed us, although Theo raises his scarred eyebrow and swivels his head to watch us. I wait until he's out of earshot.

"We need to talk." My pockets are filled with passion fruit, my fingers sticky with juice and dirt. My arm throbs where it was sewn back together, and the wound has started to swell. I've never felt so hideous in my life, but somehow Princess Victoria is rocking the shipwrecked look in a pencil skirt that she's ripped to her thigh.

"Pass," she says, before bringing her hands to her mouth like she's going to be sick all over the forest floor. Her complexion is a worrying shade of gray.

"How are you feeling?"

"Do us both a favor and stop asking me that."

I try again. "Theo told me that increased thirst and nausea might be symptoms of—" She cuts me a warning glare, and the rest of my sentence gets caught in my throat.

"And?" she demands, a hand on her hip. "What's there to do about it?"

"Let us know if you feel nauseous or tired or you need a break—"

"I can take care of myself." She throws me a sidelong glance. "I don't even know you. You're just some random girl—"

I've been trying to be nice, but my temper flares. "That your brother married."

Her eye roll is epic. "You're not staying married. The Firm would never allow it."

"Well, until they rescue us, grant your brother and me a quickie divorce, and kick my ass back to America, you're stuck with me. Don't want to cooperate? Fine. I'm not letting you out of my sight, Your Highness. " I dip into a shallow curtsy, just to get under her skin.

"That's going to be awkward, because I have to wee." She ducks out of sight to do her business, and when she's done, she rolls her eyes to discover that I'm still waiting for her. "I told you, I am more than capable of looking after myself. You can piss off." She flips her hair and picks up her pace, patting her thigh so Comet follows her as she catches back up to the group.

I sigh. That went about as well as expected.

I whistle, calling Comet back to my side. "Comet! Come here, boy!"

"Keep him back there," Brooke calls over her shoulder. "He stinks."

"Don't listen to her." I bend to pick up the stick Comet has dropped at my feet and am almost knocked backward by the smell of rotten eggs. I cover my nose with my hand. "Okay, wow. I don't love you any less, but you need a bath."

He cocks his head, begging for me to play with him, and despite the gag-inducing smell, I can't help but smile.

"Don't forget who your human is, okay?" I scratch him behind the ears. He picks up the stick and presses it into my leg. I laugh. "Fine, fine!" I pull back my good arm and let the stick fly. It lands out of sight and Comet takes off, leaping over a ridge to retrieve it. His bark carries easily through the quiet air, and I'm starting to wonder what's taking him so long when he lopes back over the ridge.

"No stick?" I ask.

He nudges my hand with his dripping-wet snout.

I laugh. "Are you the smartest boy ever? Did you already take that bath?" It's just his muzzle that's wet, though.

He barks again for my attention, and I jog with him over the ridge. The land gently slopes down to a small crater filled with a deep pool of water in the center, and the rotten egg smell intensifies. Comet's stick is floating near the shore.

"You found water!" I rub his head affectionately and reach my hand into the water to retrieve the stick.

Then I pull my hand out in shock. "Did you feel this?" I slowly dip my fingers into the warm water again, closing my eyes as a soft sigh escapes my lips.

When Theo and I were on the run and facing the end of our lives, even the smallest luxuries felt like heaven: a bed, a shower, clean clothes. But I was wrong.

Heaven is a Portuguese hot spring.