Chapter 29

C HAPTER 29

I dream I'm floating.

Except… everything hurts. Nothing is supposed to hurt in a dream. Also, this is bumpier than my usual dream-floating.

I dream I'm being jostled?

Hmmm.

I open my eyes and scream.

I scramble out of the arms of the figure carrying me, spraying sand in every direction, including into my own eyes.

" Ow! " I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, pushing the grains of sand in deeper.

"Careful! You'll make it worse!" Henry's voice is in my ear.

"What are you doing here?" I demand. "You scared me!"

His fingers brush against my wrist. "Let me help."

"It hurts!" I flail around until my elbow slams into what can only be Henry's head.

He hisses in pain. "Hence the help!"

"I can't see!"

"Get your hands out of your bloody eyes!" he yells in exasperation.

I drop my hands and try again to pry open my eyes, but the sand and my tear ducts have fused together to form an unbreakable bond. "I can't open them!"

Henry gently circles my wrists with his hands. "Then let me bloody help you!"

"Fine!" I shout. I stop moving, and he leads me toward the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. I kneel in wet sand and tip my head back as he pours handful after handful of briny seawater over my eyes. The water spills down the sides of my cheeks as I blink out painful grains of sand until I can open my eyes again. I wait as my vision adjusts to the dark, and when I can finally see Henry kneeling next to me, I repeat my question. "What are you doing here?"

"You're welcome, happy to help," he mutters, rubbing the spot near his temple that my elbow struck.

I stand up and brush myself off. "If you'll excuse me, I have things to do."

"Such as?"

"I need to finish the raft I started."

"You mean that?"

He points to a pitiful bundle of sticks and bamboo with a flimsy vine looped loosely around it.

I scan the beach for the rest of my supplies. That can't be all I did. It took forever, and it was so hard. When I realize it is, in fact, all I did, my cheeks grow hot. The raft that I thought would save us all is roughly the size of my leg. To further humiliate me, Henry lifts his foot and shoves the "raft" into the water. The vine slips away as the planks quickly fall apart.

I clear the embarrassment from my throat. "It appears we need a new plan."

"You mean like that one?" He points a little ways up the beach, where a fire illuminates a giant "SOS" spelled out of tree branches, rocks, and bamboo shoots. Is that what I spent the entire night working on? Am I some sort of survival sleepwalking genius? I was pretty out of it before I fell asleep.

The thought cheers me up and I wander toward the message. "Did I do this?"

"You sound mental," Victoria says. She's lying on the sand next to the second S. Her eyes are closed, and light from a flickering fire reveals dark purple shadows under her eyes. She looks sick, but she still sounds like herself, which must be a good sign.

"Where'd you come from?"

"There was a plane in the sky, see, and it crashed—"

"Did you do this?" I gesture to the message.

She finally opens her eyes. "I supervised."

"Where's Brooke?"

"Not back yet."

"Where's Theo?"

"In the forest."

"Doing what?"

"It's not proper to discuss."

"Did he do this?"

"Obviously."

"And the fire?" I point to the dancing flames in the dead center of the O. I turn to Henry for clarification.

"Also us," he confirms as Theo and Comet join us on the beach. Comet quickly makes a chew toy out of the large stick at the top of the O, so the message now reads "SUS."

Theo watches me carefully, his expression unreadable.

"But I thought—" I sputter, trying to remember exactly what happened before I fell asleep. "I gathered sticks and bamboo for my raft. I didn't tell anyone."

"You thought you were the only one with a rescue plan?" Victoria asks dryly.

"I thought I was alone. "

The royals blink at me like I'm an utter idiot.

"You can't get rid of us that easily," Henry says.

"To be fair, she could probably bump me off pretty easily at this point," Victoria says. Henry nudges his sister with his foot. "Fine." She rolls her eyes. "This is not an ideal situation, but we're in it together."

I wish I could believe that. I turn to Theo. "You didn't follow me," I say quietly.

His expression darkens.

"Look!" Brooke's voice screams. I spin to find her in the dark. A swell of nausea rises in my stomach and I sway on my feet. Theo steadies me.

Henry shouts. Every muscle in my body winds tight, preparing for the worst, but when I look at him, he's jumping up and down, waving his arms in the air. "Over here!" he yells. "We're here!"

I glance up at the dark sky. Wind whips my hair across my face as a swirling tornado of sand and leaves and branches rises into the air. I choke on a mouthful of sand. Theo yells, his words drowned out by the thrum of helicopter blades. We run for cover behind the trees. Theo pulls me to the ground and shields my body with his just in time for us to watch as a trio of helicopters land on the beach.

The doors are thrown open, and people spill onto the sand.

Theo's eyes are wide as saucers as we share a glance. "It's over," he whispers.

We're hidden behind a thicket of trees, so the rescuers run immediately for Henry and Victoria. Henry points to his sister, and two people in emergency medic uniforms kneel next to her, ripping open a bag of medical supplies. The part of my brain that has been terrified about her health relaxes for the first time in days.

We survived. It's over.

Which means we're over. Theo and I are officially out of time.

I'm too in shock to move. All I should feel is relief and happiness, but fear grips me in a steel trap. It's too soon. At least in Greece, we had a countdown to the end of the world. I made a call to the Firm, and I knew they were coming. I had time to prepare myself for the emotional hand grenade.

"Is this goodbye?" I ask, suddenly realizing I don't know what happens after this. Will the Firm still take me to London, or is it too close to the coronation now to worry about the desperate American? Maybe they drafted our divorce papers after the plane went down. I'll sign them over the Atlantic and they'll hand me a parachute over Chicago.

Theo puts a hand on my cheek, then pulls back and looks at his palm. "Why are you so hot?"

"Are you hitting on me? Does this mean you forgive me?"

He nudges the torn fabric of my shirtsleeve to the side and curses. "Bloody hell. Your stitches are infected. Do you feel okay?" His eyes search my face, and his voice sounds like it's a million miles away. "You're not really looking at me."

I don't feel okay, actually. I need some of Gwyneth's healing Goop powers. Theo's face blurs in my vision.

"Wren?" His voice is sharp. "Look at me. Wren?"

He stands and pulls me up. I stumble over my own feet, struggling to stay upright. He sweeps his arms underneath my legs and lifts me in one fluid motion. I'm floating again, and once again, it feels awful.

"Apologies in advance if I puke on you," I mumble. My head falls to Theo's chest, and it's the most comfortable I've been in days. He's so warm.

"She needs help," Theo shouts as he runs. He sounds so scared it makes me wonder if I should be scared.

"We've got eyes on the King. His Majesty is alive," a voice says. Half a dozen people rush toward us, forcing Theo to set me down as they inspect the King for injuries.

"I'm fine! Wren needs help." He tries to shake them off, but they don't listen.

"Theo, I…" My vision tunnels.

He tears off the oxygen mask they've just placed on him as I collapse in his arms.

"WREN!"

His scream echoes in my head as everything goes dark.